Steps Back
by Beregond5
Summary: Set sometime after the Meat episode, season 2. The team are out on a typical Weevil hunt, unaware that things are about to go very wrong. Torchwood Ensemble, Jack/Ianto pairing.
1. A Hunt Gone Wrong

_A/n: Special thanks go to Gemini Willow for all her help and thoughts concerning the story. :)_

* * *

The only sound that could be heard at that time, nearly midnight, was the constant pattering of the rain as it kept bucketing down. The main streets of Cardiff were still filled with cars circulating about, but there was hardly a mouse stirring in the dark alleys. Or so most of the citizens in Cardiff believed. If anyone happened to look out the window, they would be surprised to see a strange form run as fast as its feet could carry it (for it was hardly human, if its growls of dismay were any indication), while a man in a heavy military overcoat gave chase.

* * *

His boots splashed on the puddles of water that formed on the ground, and the element of nature kept whipping him, almost blocking his vision. Nevertheless, Captain Jack Harkness still gave pursuit, determined to catch the Weevil at all costs.

"Owen, it's heading your way, are you in position?" he asked, activating the bluetooth.

"Still waiting," Owen replied from the other side of the link. "And freezing."

Jack smirked at the answer, then tapped his bluetooth again. "Gwen, how are things from your end?"

"Marvellous," Gwen answered sarcastically, panting heavily; she was obviously trying to catch her breath. "I was looking forward to a romantic dinner with my dear husband-to-be tonight, but I got myself a date with Mr. Weevil instead!"

"Don't worry, Ianto will make sure your date behaves," Jack said, still running. He was getting tired, admittedly. But, if his plan worked, the chase would be over pretty soon. "Where are you now?"

"By some abandoned flats," Gwen replied. "The Weevil went inside one of the buildings, and Ianto went after it."

"You didn't go with him?"

"I believe I'm the goalkeeper."

Jack understood what that meant, of course. Ianto was supposed to chase the Weevil out of the building, where Gwen would be waiting and throw the bag over its head. Not a bad plan and it did do the trick… most of the times.

"Alright, fine," Jack conceded. "Let me know if you need help."

"You already have your hands full, Jack."

Jack grinned at that moment, for he saw where the Weevil was heading. "Not anymore," he declared, and he slowed to a casual walk. There was no need to worry anyway. Owen had already sprung from his hiding place, the Weevil spray in one hand and a syringe in his other. The Weevil roared, realizing that it had run right into a trap, but the doctor silenced it with a quick jab on its neck. A few seconds later, the Weevil was on the ground, heavily sedated and quite harmless.

Jack walked up to Owen, letting out a light whistle of approval. "Nice work."

"Thanks," Owen replied. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll go bring the SUV while you watch over Sleeping Beauty here."

"Sleeping Beauty, huh?" Jack said and he looked at the unconscious Weevil. "Seems fitting."

Owen rolled his eyes with a groan. "You can call it whatever you like, just don't decide to kiss it awake," he stated in a matter-of-fact tone, and he turned on his heel, leaving a very amused Jack behind.

He never saw the mirth vanishing from the former Time-agent's lips almost instantly, though. He certainly didn't see him lean against the wall in a tired manner either, a sigh leaving his lips.

_One down… One more to go,_ Jack mused.

He didn't want to admit it, but he had needed that kind of adrenaline rush today. If anything, it put his mind off things that he didn't want to think about presently, for they were simply too many, too much and too distracting. In fact, if it was in his hand, he would never have to think about them at all.

The Weevil let out a snort and twitched, but that hardly fazed Jack. He knew that the creature was just sleeping without a care in the world.

"You sure are better off than me," Jack murmured, and he lifted his gaze up in the sky, letting the rain fall on his head as if it would somehow cleanse him.

* * *

Ianto walked slowly, his steps echoing hollowly in the corridors of the abandoned building. His torch illuminated the way, but that was hardly helpful as the young man tried to catch any sight of the Weevil at the same time.

Then again… he didn't have to. Remembering that two sets of eyes were better than one, he tapped his bluetooth, activating it.

"Tosh, are you there?"

"Always," the woman replied, and Ianto was sure he detected a smile in her tone. "What do you need?"

"Can you spot the Weevil for me? I'm currently…"

"In an abandoned building, on the third floor and… in a corridor next to a series of rooms located to your left," Tosh answered. "Unless the blueprints I've downloaded were designed _very_ sloppily."

"Let's hope not," Ianto said, happy that a woman like Toshiko worked for Torchwood; she practically did wonders even from her comfortable place in the Hub. "What about the Weevil?"

"I need to set the detectors to--"

Ianto never heard her. A roar tore through the air, sending a chill in his heart.

"Ianto?" Tosh sounded perplexed, and she didn't bother hiding it.

"Did you hear that?" Ianto asked, keeping his voice low.

"I'm sorry, no," the woman answered. "What was it?"

"The Weevil," Ianto said. "Something's wrong. It almost sounded as if…" Feeling his mouth dry, he continued down the corridor, to the direction he heard the creature's cry.

"As if what, Ianto?" Tosh asked worriedly. "Talk to me!"

But Ianto couldn't answer. He had gotten too shocked at the scene that unfolded before him. The Weevil was on the floor, yet its blood was covering the walls and its chest was slashed open. Ianto could see its innards exposed under the meagre light that was shed through the windows.

Heart pounding rapidly against his ribcage, Ianto touched his bluetooth. "Tosh… The Weevil's dead."

Stunned silence followed for a brief moment. "How?"

"I don't know. But something's killed it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! Tosh… what else is in here?!"

"Hold on, I need to run the scans."

Ianto stood still and waited, swallowing hard.

"Ianto?"

"Yeah?" he whispered, already not liking the sound of her voice. He could still detect the slight tremor in it, even though she spoke confidently.

"The scans came clean. Whatever is in that room, it's not…" she paused, and Ianto heard her trying to calm her breathing. "Get out of there. Quick."

Quick… That was easier said than done. He could still be heard. Not wanting to take that kind of chance, Ianto took a small step back, meaning to make a silent retreat.

The floor boards creaked loudly under his weight, making him wince. And then, a snort echoed in the room, the sound an animal makes when alarmed, only for more boards to creak, accompanied by claws scratching the floor.

"Shit!" With every chance of escaping slipping away, Ianto could only take out his gun and start firing repeatedly in the direction the sounds came.

* * *

Gwen paced the pavement up and down, trying not to think of the pouring rain that messed her hair and makeup. She didn't dare think what she looked like right now. One thing was sure though: Rhys was going to end up on the floor laughing when he saw her. Her only consolation was that he would then have the decency to prepare a warm bath for her. She already had to deal with aliens on a regular basis, after all; the last thing she wanted was to catch bloody pneumonia.

"Come on, Ianto, hurry up," she murmured under her breath. The sooner they were over and done with, the sooner she would sink in the bathtub and in the warm bliss that she was already daydreaming about.

Her thoughts were cut off, however, when she heard the unmistakable sound of gunshots above the continuous pattering of the rain. She looked up, aware at once that that was Ianto's gun.

That wasn't supposed to happen, not by far. Concerned, she took out her own gun and got ready to rush inside in the hopes of helping the man, but everything went awry in that very moment. The sound of shattering glass penetrated the pounding rain, and Gwen was horrified to see a familiar form flung out of the window above her. She crouched by instinct, protecting herself from the falling debris. Yet she couldn't take her eyes off Ianto as he fell to his doom, a cry tearing off his chest.

After moments that felt like eternity, he landed with a sickening crash on the top of a parked car. The car alarm went off, filling the air with its deafening wailing, but Gwen never registered it. She simply stood where she was, staring in disbelief and shock at the perfectly still body and slackened face of Ianto. For the young man actually… looked dead.

"Jack..." she whispered, voicing the first thought that came to mind.

As if the name alone had the power to wake her from the spell of numbing confusion that had grabbed hold of her, Gwen instantly activated her bluetooth.

"Jack!" she cried, "Ianto's hurt!"

The rain just kept pouring down on the broken man, doing a miserable job at washing away his blood.

_TBC..._


	2. Making Acquaintances

_A/n: Wow, I'm quite flattered at the amount of story alerts that the story got. I hope I'll keep your interest piqued. :)_

* * *

"Dr. Simmons, please report to the A&E. Dr. Simmons, please report to the A&E."

The woman who was at the moment exchanging small talk with a couple of nurses pricked up her ears at the sound of her name and quickly snapped into action. With a brief 'Excuse me', she hurried to the entrance of the hospital and steeled herself for what was to come.

In the next moment, the glass doors of the entrance burst open and the paramedics charged in, dragging the stretcher along with them. Dr. Simmons winced inwardly at the sight of a young man – in his mid-twenties, the doctor supposed – covered in blood.

"What have we got?" Dr. Simmons asked, addressing one of the paramedics.

The paramedic opened his mouth to speak, but the man next to him turned out to be faster.

"His name is Ianto Jones; he fell from the third floor to a parked car. No fractured bones or signs of internal bleeding as far as I could tell but he's unresponsive to external stimuli. His heart rate is approximately 120 beats per minute with a blood pressure of 80/40 and oxygen levels at 85%. He needs eight units of blood type O positive and a CT scan to determine the extent of his brain injuries."

Dr. Simmons regarded the man curiously. The Londoner (for he certainly sounded like one), was holding Mr. Jones' hand tightly, and his clothes were covered in blood as well.

"A fellow doctor, I presume?"

The Londoner nodded and extended his free hand. "Name's Owen Harper. Dr. Owen Harper."

"Dr. Emma Simmons," Dr. Simmons replied, completing the handshake. "Did you find the victim?"

"We were together when it happened," Dr. Harper explained.

"Suicide attempt?"

"No, an accident."

Dr. Simmons had to admit that that was strange. Though the victim was practically soaked in blood, she could still make out the fine fabric of a suit. So what was a man like him doing falling off buildings?

"Is he inebriated?"

"Hardly," Dr. Harper said and he held up a special ID. "We're Torchwood. We were monitoring suspicious activity."

"I see." Dr. Simmons faced one of the paramedics, but she didn't get the chance to speak. In that moment, her ears picked up the sound of arguing and she turned her gaze to see what was going on. One of the nurses was trying to dissuade a man and a woman from going any further in the A&E, but they wouldn't have it. The woman, in particular, seemed desperate to follow the stretcher.

"Friends of yours?" Dr. Simmons asked her fellow doctor.

"As close as they can be," Dr. Harper replied and he nodded in their direction. "He's our boss; she's a colleague. She's also the one who saw it happening."

"Then you'd better talk to them," Dr. Simmons suggested. "You know as well as I do they can't follow us, Torchwood or no."

"Right," Dr. Harper said, finally suffering to let go of the injured man's hand, and he walked up to his co-workers. The last thing that Dr. Simmons saw before the doors of the A&E closed behind her was Dr. Harper talking to them, gestures of reassurance accompanying his words.

"Dr. Simmons, shall we move him to the table?" one of the paramedics said.

That snapped the doctor off her musings. "Yeah… On the count of three."

Several pairs of hands held the young man's body firmly and carried him as one to the operating table. A small sound, almost like a moan, slipped out of the bloodless lips.

"Mr. Jones? Mr. Jones, can you hear me?" Dr. Simmons asked, clasping the man's hand in hers. "Squeeze my hand if you can."

Nothing happened; the man remained unconscious. Hissing under her breath, Dr. Simmons addressed one of the nurses.

"Start intubating. Now!"

The nurse nodded her understanding, and Dr. Simmons returned her gaze to the injured man.

"You'd better hold on, Mr. Jones," she murmured. "One, I hate losing patients and two, you've got some good friends worrying about you."

* * *

"How is he?" Gwen asked, her eyes wide open. "Did he say anything?"

"He's out of it," Owen answered with a shake of his head. "Worse, he's probably got some major brain damage too."

"Oh, God!" The woman exclaimed, horrified.

Jack wrapped his arms around Gwen in a soothing manner, but his expression was unreadable as he looked back at Owen.

"When will we know for sure?" he asked.

"As soon as we get the CT scans," Owen said. "But, to do that, we have to make sure he stays alive first."

Jack nodded his understanding, still not letting go of Gwen. "Will you be with him?"

Owen pursed his lips momentarily. "I think they'll let me; the doctor I talked to seemed a decent enough person."

"Okay," Jack said, managing a small smile. "Thanks, Owen."

"Don't thank me yet," Owen said. "Let's see if he pulls through first."

With that, Owen headed to the entrance of the A&E. One of the nurses stood on his way and tried to talk him out of going any further but, after a small exchange of words, she finally relented and she guided him inside. Jack watched the medic go without a word, never letting go of Gwen as he tried to calm her down; she was trembling quite violently.

"Bloody 'rock, paper, scissors'," she said, doing her best not to cry.

"Come again?" Jack looked at her, not really understanding.

She drew back, sniffing, and she wiped a stray tear from her eyes. "We played 'rock, paper, scissors' to see who would go in the building. I had paper, he had scissors," she explained. She tried to laugh, but any sign of mirth vanished as quickly as it had struggled to appear. "I should have gone with him."

"You'd only end up hurt too," Jack said softly. He cupped her face tenderly, his thumbs wiping the messed makeup from her cheeks. "And though I can deal with the worst of aliens, I don't think I'd be able to deal with a very pissed off Rhys."

She finally laughed a bit. "He's a force to be reckoned with, the big goof, I'll give him that."

"Yeah." His hands went lower, and he squeezed her shoulders reassuringly. "It will be okay."

Gwen didn't reply, but at least she wasn't at the verge of tears anymore. It was an encouraging thought and it gave Jack the chance to focus on other matters. He activated his bluetooth, opening his communication frequencies.

"Tosh, do you read?"

"Yes," the tech expert answered. "How's Ianto?"

Jack winced to hear her voice so strained and filled with worry. "He's taken care of. Owen is with him and he'll keep us updated."

"But how bad is it?" Tosh insisted.

Jack really didn't want to answer that, but he couldn't lie to Toshiko either. He knew that she had a soft spot for Ianto. So, he went for the most honest – yet least hurtful – answer.

"We don't know yet; they have to stabilize him first." He took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes in a tired manner. Oh, this wasn't going to be such an easy thing to ask… "Tosh, I need to know. Do you have any footage of Ianto's fall?"

There was a small pause, during which Jack was sure that Toshiko swallowed hard. "Yes."

"Okay." At last, a sliver of hope. "Tosh, analyse the recording. Something pushed Ianto out of that window, and I want to know what. Got it?"

"Got it," Toshiko answered. "Shall I call you when I find it?"

"No, I'm coming over anyway," Jack said, checking his watch. "I'll be there in ten minutes."

With that final word, the former Time-agent ended the transmission and then turned to Gwen. She regarded him quite perplexed; she had obviously overheard the conversation.

"Are you going to the Hub?" she asked.

Jack nodded. "If it was an alien that attacked Ianto, I might be able to identify it." He held up a finger, a sign that he shouldn't be denied on this. "You stay and wait for Owen to come out."

Gwen, however, shook her head quite emphatically. "I'm coming with you."

Jack glared at the woman. "No."

"I can help. You know I can," Gwen said.

"You _can _help. By staying here. End of discussion," Jack said with finality, heading for the exit. "I'll be back," he added as a parting shot, and then stepped out into the rain, hoping that Gwen would do what she was told for once in her life.

* * *

Gwen watched Jack exit the building, wanting nothing more than to run up to him and give him such an earful that he'd remember it for the rest of his immortal life. She didn't need protection, and she bloody hell didn't need to be patronised either. She was forced to deal with a lot worse ever since she had become part of Torchwood, and no one, not even the dashing hero by the name of Captain Jack Harkness had the right to treat her like a clueless child. At this moment, Tosh was working on the CCTV footage to discover the nature of the creature; Owen was stuck in the operating table, trying to stabilise Ianto, while Ianto… Ianto was probably dying.

How could Jack ask of her to just wait?

She stood up, determined to exit the building as well, but she stopped herself at the last moment. A part of her still couldn't help but feel guilty about what happened to Ianto, and leaving now seemed very much like abandoning him. She wanted to be here when Owen came out so she could hear the news for herself, whether it was good or bad.

Just as she was contemplating what she should do, she noticed a constable passing by her, and an idea finally clicked in her mind. She dug out her mobile phone and searched for a familiar number.

_PC Andy._

Smiling, she immediately pressed the call button.

* * *

PC Andy had expected things to be fairly quiet tonight, but he was soon proved wrong. After all, he had learnt that, whenever Gwen Cooper called him on his mobile, it was to ask him for a favour. And though he kept telling himself that _this _time he would say 'No', Gwen was always able to convince him. So now there he was, walking alone in the middle of the night and getting soaking wet, just so he could investigate what Gwen called 'a crime scene'. Andy preferred to call it 'a dreary place on the verge of collapsing on my head."

_Damn it, Gwen Cooper. I must _really _like you, _he thought wryly, looking up and down at the building Gwen had talked to him about. He spotted the broken window she mentioned, as well as the pieces of broken glass on the street and pavement. It didn't take a great mind to guess that that was from where the victim fell, only to land on the parked car.

Andy winced and did his best not to picture that; it churned his stomach to no end. And he certainly didn't want to think how Gwen must have felt seeing it with her own eyes. Perhaps he should pass by the A&E once he was done here, just to check on her.

His musings were cut short when he saw from the corner of his eyes some kind of light. Surprised, Andy looked up at the third floor and, indeed, there was the unmistakable light of a torch that moved about. That was strange, considering that Gwen assured him that the building was abandoned and that he didn't have to go inside. Deciding to check things out for himself, Andy went inside and climbed up the stairs, his own torch in hand. He couldn't help but chuckle as the stairs creaked under his weight, while the rain beat the windows with quite the force. He had seen plenty of horror films to know that he had just become part of one of the most clichéd scenes out there. He hoped he didn't end up dead though, as it always seemed to be the case in the films.

He finally reached the third floor, cringing at the darkness that enveloped him. There was no light anymore except for his now. If there was anyone in there, he had either slipped away unnoticed or just hid out of sight. Andy held up his club, prepared to fight if it came down to that.

"This is PC Andy Davidson. I suggest you step out of the light so I can see you. Slowly," he said in a clear voice.

There was no response for many long moments, and then the light of a second torchlight flooded the room. Andy narrowed his eyes in an attempt to see, since the light hit his face quite directly.

"Well, you're certainly who you claim to be," an American voice said.

"Since we've established that, care to show _your _face, mate?" Andy asked.

"Yeah. Sorry about that," the voice said, and the man stepped into Andy's light.

Andy tilted his head, regarding the man curiously since he looked nothing like what Andy had expected. Granted, he hadn't expected to see a leather-clad hooligan with about a thousand piercings on his face and an emo-ish makeup. Still, the only thing that _was _leather about the man was his jacket, which, along with his black trousers, accentuated his athletic form and dark hair. The man's face was handsome, Andy supposed (he was no girl to judge), and he didn't look older than thirty. Grey eyes looked back at Andy confidently, almost friendly, and, for a moment, Andy felt that the man seemed quite trustworthy.

Andy didn't lower his club, however. If there was one thing that he had learnt in the police force was that looks could be deceiving.

"Okay," he said, still keeping his gaze locked on the young man. "Have you got a name?"

"Yes," the man answered.

Andy waited, but the man didn't elaborate any further.

_Fantastic. I'm dealing with a wise-guy,_ Andy thought. "Whenever you feel like telling me, please do. Don't let my intimidating looks stop you," he deadpanned.

"I do want to tell you," the man said with a smile. "But the name alone means nothing without an ID to accompany it."

Andy frowned. "You don't have one?"

"I do. In my pocket," the man replied, patting his jacket. "Can I get it out or will I risk a head injury?"

Andy finally realised what the problem was. The man didn't want Andy to think that he was going to reach a gun or any other kind of weapon. That was quite civil of him, admittedly. However, it also told Andy that the man had been in that sort of situation before; he was too familiar with it.

"I won't do anything, as long as you keep your movements slow," Andy promised. "Now… Name and ID if you please."

The man nodded. He dug out of his pocket a small wallet which he opened to reveal a card with a strange holographic image on it. "Special Agent Deckard. CIA."

Andy's eyes widened tenfold. "You're kidding me."

The man – Deckard – let out a long suffering sigh. "Not that CIA. Sabotage and political secrets were never my forte anyway," he said, smiling wryly. "My job is to worry about more unusual activity. Just like what happened in this building."

"I see," Andy replied, trying to take in what the agent was telling him, even though some parts were rather hard to swallow. "And what kind of unusual activity would that be, Agent Deckard?"

Deckard raised an eyebrow, contemplated matters for a moment, and then sidestepped with a nod to his left. Perplexed, yet willing to get to the bottom of things, Andy directed his torch to the direction the agent indicated.

"Bloody Hell!" he exclaimed as his gaze fell on… honestly, Andy couldn't tell what that thing was. One thing was sure though; it was freakishly ugly, with two sets of razor-sharp teeth inside a wide open mouth.

"A Weevil, actually," Deckard replied in a tone as if he was idly describing the weather. "And it's quite dead, so you needn't worry, PC Davidson."

Andy directed his torch lower, only to see Deckard was right. Its chest was torn apart and its insides were out in the open, covered in dried blood. Andy hastily put a hand over his mouth before he got sick there and then, but he seemed unable to take his eyes off the creature. Every sort of thought and question crossed his mind as he tried to understand what was happening, because this wasn't real, it _couldn't _be. He was either stuck in a horrible dream or, worse, he was hallucinating.

"Please, tell me this isn't a joke," he finally breathed out.

"No joke, PC Davidson," Deckard said with a shake of his head.

"Then how did you know… _this_… was going to be here?" Andy asked.

"I didn't," Deckard answered. "At 00:22 hours, someone uploaded on the internet what they described as a 'Live Suicide Video', which they recorded in their cell phone. Guess which place it showed."

Andy nodded; it didn't take a great mind to guess anyway. Deckard was far from done, though.

"Thing is, the particular someone didn't stop to think that people who jump out of windows tend to open said window first. So, I realised that there was something else going on here and I decided to see things for myself. That, however," Agent Deckard locked his gaze on Andy, "hardly explains why _you _are here, PC Davidson. There have been no police reports about this incident as of yet. Care to explain why you're here?"

Andy gaped at the agent. "How did you know…?"

Deckard just gave him a look that clearly said: 'Just answer the question,' and Andy decided that it was in his best interest to do just that.

"A friend of mine called about an hour ago. She said that the victim was a colleague of hers."

"What's her name?" Deckard asked.

"Gwen Cooper," Andy replied.

"What about her colleague?"

"Ianto Jones."

Deckard didn't speak for some time, something that surprised Andy; even more so when he noticed that Deckard's eyes moved rapidly, as if the man was reading something from an invisible board. That is, until Deckard blinked and looked up at Andy once more.

"They work for Torchwood," he said.

"Uh… yeah," Andy said, quite confused. Yes, Andy knew about Torchwood, if only as a name and because he wanted to find out more about that Special Ops team which Gwen had declared she had joined. How did _this_ man know about that was beyond Andy's comprehension, though. Apparently, Agent Deckard had secrets of his own.

"Yet you don't know what a Weevil is?" Deckard asked then, cutting into Andy's train of thought.

Andy blinked. "Wait… Are you saying Gwen knows about them?"

"Not only knows about them, but I'm now quite sure that she and Mr. Jones were here to catch this one."

"But it's dead!" Andy exclaimed.

"I doubt they had anything to do with that," Deckard answered. He knelt next to the creature and pointed at the gaping wounds. "See these? What do they look like?"

Andy wasn't sure he wanted to answer that; the sight was still sickening. Then again, curiosity is a powerful thing, and he wanted to see this matter to the end.

"They look like bites," he said.

"Exactly," Deckard replied.

"Another Weevil?" Andy ventured.

"No. Something a lot meaner. And I think I know what." Deckard stood up, a look of determination set in his grey eyes. "Where's your friend now?"

"Probably still at the A&E," Andy answered.

"We should go find her then." With that, Deckard turned on his heel and went towards the exit.

"Hold on a minute!_ We?!_" Andy exclaimed.

Deckard faced Andy with a smirk, walking on as if he had eyes behind his back, too. "Well, I can't just leave you here with a dead Weevil for company," he said. "Besides, something tells me that tonight you'll be a lot safer with me than on your own."

Andy gulped and winced. He should have said 'No' to Gwen while he had the chance.

TBC...


	3. Step One

As the sound of alarms went off, Tosh looked up from the monitor of her computer. Jack walked through the entrance of the Hub, his steps quick, albeit graceful, and there was a sharp look in his eyes that Tosh had seen very few times before. It was the look that challenged anyone or anything to stand on the man's way… and pay the price.

"Toshiko! Show me what you've got," was the first thing that he said.

"You won't like it," Tosh pointed out.

"I'll handle it," Jack replied, and he stood next to the woman, his eyes already fixed on the monitor. "Now tell me."

"Okay," Tosh said and she started typing new orders on the computer. "I did just as you said. I examined every available CCTV footage I could find, but there was no clear shot of the window. However…" she added, noticing Jack's look of dismay, "after looking over and over _this _clip," at that, she pressed enter and uploaded a video catching Ianto's fall from the right, "I noticed something very strange about it. Can you see it?"

She faced Jack and she immediately regretted showing him the clip. Though his eyes never left the screen, taking in every detail of the fall, she could tell that he was abhorred; his cheeks had drained of all colour.

"Jack?"

"I'm fine," Jack replied, his eyes steeling at once. "What am I looking for?"

Tosh knew that Jack was anything _but _fine, but she held her tongue and didn't confront the man about it; it would hardly help matters. She froze the image and pointed with her pen at the area just over Ianto's body.

"Look at the rain."

Jack narrowed his eyes as he took a closer look, and then looked back at Tosh with a frown. "It looks like it's distorted. Is that a glitch?"

"That's what I thought at first," Tosh said. "But then, I saw this." She zoomed in the clip, focusing on Ianto's upper body and arms.

"He was struggling," Jack said, taken aback. Indeed, Ianto's hands were positioned exactly as if the young man was trying to push something away from him.

"Yes. Whatever pushed Ianto out of the window, it went down with him. So," With that, Tosh started typing on the keyboard rapidly, "I drew an outline of the creature's body, based on where the rain hit it, and I've managed to simulate an image of it on screen. It's rather crude, but I think it's still saying a lot."

A whirring sound later, the computer generated image Tosh had produced appeared on screen. There wasn't much detail in it, but anyone could tell that Ianto fell out of the window as he tried to fight off some kind of quadruped. It didn't look any bigger than a large dog, but its jaws were wide open with two terrible sets of sharp teeth trying to close around Ianto's throat and end his life. Both alien and human landed on the car, and the creature jumped away in a startled manner before running away from the scene as fast as it could.

"That's when the car alarm went off," Tosh explained. "It obviously doesn't like loud noises."

"Yeah," Jack said in a musing tone. "What I don't understand is why we can't see or detect it."

"I'm not sure. But, if I were to guess, I'd say it probably has something to do with its skin. By the looks of it, it can deflect any light and standard scanning signals."

"What about thermal sensors?"

"They don't work. It's cold-blooded."

"Damn it!" Jack hissed. His hands clenched into fists and he bowed his head, breathing heavily in an attempt to control his frustration. "So, what you're telling me is that this creature is now somewhere in Cardiff, set on a killing spree, and we can't stop it because there's no way we can see it?"

"Actually, we can," Tosh said with a smile, putting a view of the city of Cardiff on screen. "As long as the creature is in the rain, I can locate any fluctuations in the element that correspond to its body shape."

"Like sonar," Jack said, understanding, "Except you won't be using sounds to find any anomalies, but the raindrops themselves." He cupped the woman's face and kissed her on the cheek. "Toshiko, you're brilliant!"

The woman felt a blush forming on her cheeks. "Thanks."

Jack, however, was already on his way to the exit, his military coat almost flying behind him.

"Contact me as soon as you find it!" he ordered, and with that he was gone, out of the door and out of sight.

* * *

The door of the club burst open and the young man and woman that exited staggered away, fairly drunk. They didn't seem to care about their surroundings, though, having eyes for each other instead. Kisses were exchanged amid loud laughter, and their petting only became heavier as they finally ended up in the dark alley just around the corner. Their laughter was replaced by moans of pleasure and heated breathing, and the woman let herself be pinned against the wall.

Neither of them noticed the rain forming a small arch as if hitting something in mid-air, nor did they hear the low growl of an animal that is eager for its next kill. And by the time they did, their screams of terror went unheard.

* * *

The A&E buzzed with life as doctors and nurses hurried hither and thither, each going about their own business. Gwen didn't pay heed to any of that, though. She simply stared ahead, her eyes fixed on the opposite wall and her mind racing as memories kept catching up with her. Memories of Ianto and the last time they talked, just a couple of hours before everything went so wrong.

------------------

_She sat back on her chair, rubbing her eyes as she tried to ease her weariness. After sitting for so many hours in front of the computer, she had developed a nasty headache and a sore back, signs that she should stop and finally call it a night. Still, Gwen didn't want to go, not just yet. She meant to finish work by tonight, and she would bloody well finish it._

_She looked back at the screen, blinked, and she was dismayed to see that she had omitted an entire paragraph from her notebook as she copied her report. Letting out a small growl in frustration, she grabbed a post-it note, crumbled it and tossed it away to vent off some steam._

"_Whoops." Ianto held out the bin he was holding so that the crumbled note would land in it safe and sound. "And I was wondering where did all these come from," he said, nodding meaningfully at nearly a dozen of the yellow pieces of paper that were scattered all over the floor._

_Gwen sighed. "I'm sorry, Ianto. It was either that or screaming, I'm afraid."_

"_Well, that seems the better option then," the man deadpanned, placing the bin back in its place next to Toshiko's desk. "So… why are you still here? I was under the impression you had made plans with Rhys tonight."_

"_I had," Gwen replied. "And I would have been home already, except I'm stuck here, working on a report."_

_Ianto frowned. "You've been doing that since this morning?"_

"_Yes… because I didn't save it the first time it was done," Gwen said, feeling hot on the cheeks as she flushed. "Now I try to make do with notes that I've left here and there and it's not exactly pretty. Or easy."_

"_Oh." Ianto bowed his head slightly, contemplating matters for a few moments. "Um… I could do it for you if you like."_

_Gwen didn't expect that, really. But, touched by the offer or not, she couldn't possibly have Ianto do that. "No, it's fine. It's my mess really."_

"_And Rhys will be stuck in the kitchen, eating food that's gone cold," Ianto pointed out, walking up to the woman. "Let me do it."_

"_Ianto, no. You make it sound like you're my secretary," Gwen said embarrassedly._

"_I don't mind," the man said with a shrug. "I'm done with my work anyway, and I don't have anyone to go home to."_

_The way he said that made Gwen feel quite uneasy and guiltier than before. "But you've been working all day. And… you look like you could use some rest yourself, pet." Indeed, Ianto's shoulders were slightly slumped, and there was a tired look in his eyes that Gwen had rarely seen before. It was almost… subdued. _

"_Nothing I can't handle," Ianto said with a smile, and he nudged her. "Now go on. Don't keep your man waiting."_

_It was a forced smile, an attempt to assuage her concern… and Gwen wasn't fooled in the least. In fact, it made her suspect why Ianto persisted so much to do her work as well, and she chided herself for not noticing it sooner. Ianto had been awfully quiet all day, keeping himself busy in every way possible, whether it was making coffee, or ordering takeout, feeding the Weevils and Myfanwy, cleaning the SUV… and the list just kept going. Though Ianto was always focused when it came to work, it was also his way of coping with things that he didn't want to think about. Gwen couldn't imagine what it was that had the young man resort to that now, but she decided it was something that Ianto needed to do._

"_All right," she said, relenting. "But only if you let me make it up to you. Taking you out for lunch sounds okay with you?"_

_Ianto's eyes widened slightly, but his lips tugged into a more genuine smile. "Lunch sounds great," he said._

"_Good," Gwen said, standing up. _And maybe I'll get you to tell me what's wrong, _she thought._

_Ianto proceeded to sit in Gwen's chair, but Jack's voice sounded throughout the Hub at that very moment._

"_Pack your gear; two Weevils were bored and decided to play tag with us. Tosh, you stay here and keep an eye on their whereabouts at all times. Gwen, you're with Ianto; Owen, with me."_

_Tosh and Owen looked up from the autopsy bay, nodding their understanding, while Ianto and Gwen exchanged an identical look of sympathy. There would be no rest for the weary tonight. _

* * *

The persistent ringing of her mobile snapped Gwen out of her absentminded reverie. Frowning, she took the phone out of her pocket and looked at the number.

_Rhys._

She couldn't help but smile. She had already phoned him and told him about Ianto, but her fiancé was obviously still concerned.

"Hey," she said in a soft tone, answering the call.

"Heya, Gwen," Rhys said from the other end of the line. "Any news from Ianto yet?"

"No," Gwen answered, closing her eyes as she sighed. "Owen said it could be really bad."

"Aw, come on, Gwen," Rhys said soothingly. "Wasn't it Ianto who took down three people with just a stun gun a week ago?"

"Yeah," Gwen said, feeling surprised. Was it really only that long? It seemed so far away now…

"See? The man is practically bloody Superman. A mere fall won't stop him," the man said, proud that he proved his point. "Sure, he'll probably be sore for a couple of days and you'll have to make coffee for the team, but don't worry; a little poisoning never hurt anyone."

Gwen laughed, although she regretted it at once. She knew, just as well as Rhys did, that the man was only trying to make her feel better, even if it meant saying things that neither of them believed.

"I love you, you know that?" she said.

"We're getting married, I think that's a big enough clue," Rhys replied, his forced mirth quite audible. All his attempts on humour were finally abandoned, however, as he spoke again. "Do you want me to come over?"

She wanted to say yes, but she held her tongue as she caught sight of a familiar figure entering the waiting hall. And, to her surprise, Andy wasn't alone.

"Gwen?"

The woman snapped out of her confusion. "No, it's fine, Rhys. I'll call you if I need anything, yeah?"

"Okay," Rhys answered after some hesitation; he had obviously sensed Gwen's unease. "Love you."

"Love you too," Gwen replied and she quickly placed her mobile back in her pocket. Not a moment too soon, as Andy and the other man walked up to her.

"Hey, Gwen," Andy said, wrapping his arms around her in a brief embrace. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine," Gwen answered, but she didn't return the embrace just as warmly. She had her gaze fixed on the dark-haired man, who seemed to be watching the scene with mild interest. "Who's this?"

"Right. Sorry," Andy said and he motioned a hand to the man. "This is Special Agent Deckard. He was in the building when I got there, investigating the scene. Agent Deckard, meet Gwen Cooper."

"Miss Cooper," Deckard said, holding out a hand. "I'm sorry about what happened to your colleague. I hope he pulls through."

Gwen didn't take the offered hand. He stared at Deckard, and then at Andy. "Did you say _in _the building?"

Andy's features hardened slightly. "Yes."

Gwen felt her heart miss a beat; nevertheless, she tried to stay calm. "Agent Deckard… what you saw in the building…"

"Was very real and very dead," Deckard answered. "PC Davidson can confirm it himself."

Gwen faced Andy, looking at him incredulously. "I told you not to go in!"

"You did. And now I know why," Andy replied, his features hardening. "I mean, seriously, Gwen, aliens…?!"

Gwen placed a hand on her former partner's lips, shushing him.

"Okay, looks like you two have a lot to talk about," Deckard noted, and he pointed with his thumb at the registration desk. "I'll be over there if you need me."

Gwen watched the man go, one hand in his pocket, and, sure enough, he settled close to the registration. He crossed his legs in a relaxed manner, then waved at her as if saying, 'Here I am'.

"Alright, Andy, who the hell is this?" she said, glaring at her friend.

"I already told you who it is!" Andy said, dismayed.

"I mean who does he work for?" Gwen insisted, trying to keep her voice low and just barely managing it.

Andy sighed. "CIA."

Gwen gasped.

"Not _that_ CIA," Andy corrected at once. "Apparently, this one's more like your Torchwood organisation." He looked towards Deckard, who raised a hand in greeting again.

"Still here!" he declared.

_Well, he's certainly friendly,_ Gwen thought wryly. Sparing a brief smile at Deckard, she prodded Andy to follow her a little further away. The last thing she needed was to be overheard.

"That doesn't mean you could bring him here," she said in a hushed whisper. "Apart from a name and some organization which doesn't even have an original acronym, you know nothing about him!"

"Well, he was bloody more honest with me in the last hour than you have been in a whole year," Andy hissed back. "You knew that that… Weevil… was there! And you knew that something killed it!"

"Yes, I did. That's why I didn't want you to go inside…" Gwen started.

"That doesn't matter!" Andy cut in. "That same something was probably the one that attacked your colleague, and it could have still been there. It could have attacked me!"

Gwen covered her face with her hands. "Okay, I get it; it was a stupid thing to do. I'm sorry! But I couldn't just tell you," she said.

"Even though we used to be partners?" Andy asked. "I thought I had earned your trust, Gwen."

"You have," the woman said sincerely. "But you are also my friend, Andy. I wanted to keep you away from this mess."

"Well, that didn't quite work, did it?"

Gwen sagged against the wall, too tired to argue about this anymore. Andy sighed and placed both hands on his hips, trying to put his temper back in check.

"I guess it's a good thing it turned out this way," he finally said. "You look like you could use some help."

"You mean his?" Gwen asked, nodding in Deckard's direction.

"I mean _and _his. Anyway, he says he knows what could have attacked Mr. Jones."

Gwen thought about that for a few moments. "And you believe him?"

Andy shrugged. "He hasn't given me a reason not to. If anything, he seems to know what he's doing."

_That doesn't mean he can be trusted,_ Gwen thought. Still, she had to admit that she was feeling very curious about Deckard now. It simply wasn't natural for a man to simply come out of nowhere with knowledge of the Weevils - and probably a lot more - and offer his help like that.

"Fine. Let's go talk to him." Gwen hoped that, if the two of them talked, she would be able to figure out what was Deckard's game. True, she had tried it before with John Hart and the plan had backfired on her, but she didn't intend to make the same mistake twice.

If Andy suspected the reason behind Gwen's willingness to talk to Deckard, he didn't show it. He just nodded and they walked up to the agent.

Deckard saw them approaching, and his eyes rested on them curiously. "Everything alright now?"

"Yes, everything's fine," Gwen said and she smiled warmly. "I'm sorry for my rudeness before, Agent Deckard. It's just been a very long day for all of us."

"That's understandable," Deckard replied. "Nevertheless, I'd rather ask you some questions concerning the incident now, while your memories of it are still clear. You know how it works."

"Yeah. Goes with being a former copper," Gwen said, although something told her that Deckard was probably aware of that already. He certainly sounded like he did.

"Good. Then we can start," Deckard said, motioning his hand to the chair next to him.

Understanding, Gwen sat down, feeling rather nervous. She had always been the one to talk to witnesses before, and yet she was now the one who had to have the particular talk with an investigator. It certainly gave her a different perspective on things.

"What do you want to know?" she asked.

"What happened; that about sums it up," Deckard said. He placed his hand on both hers, a reassuring look in his grey eyes. "No rush. Take your time."

His hand was warm and comforting, anchoring Gwen to reality as she started telling everything from the beginning. She was even surprised to feel his grip tightening slightly as the memory of Ianto's fall started playing in her mind's eye quite vividly, making her relive the horror and shock she'd been through.

"I didn't dare move him away from the car, but then Jack and Owen came and we helped him on the pavement," she whispered. "He was soaked in so much blood I thought he was dead."

"He isn't dead. He's in the other room, putting up a damn good fight," Deckard said calmly before addressing Andy. "Could you bring a glass of water for Miss Cooper, PC Davidson?"

Andy nodded. I'll be right back," he said, heading towards the nearest dispenser.

Deckard watched Andy go, then returned his gaze to Gwen, a small reassuring smile on his lips. "You did well, Miss Cooper."

Gwen sighed. She wished she could believe him. "Andy said that you know what attacked Ianto."

"I have my suspicions," Deckard replied. "And the bites on the Weevil coincide with my theory."

"Then what do you think it was?" Gwen asked.

"Gwen, your water," Andy said, holding out a small plastic cup.

_Worst timing in entire history,_ the woman thought indignantly. Nevertheless, she accepted the water and drank it in a few swift gulps; only now did she realise how much she needed it. "Agent Deckard…"

Deckard, however, didn't seem to acknowledge her anymore. He looked like his mind had drifted off elsewhere, but Gwen could see his eyes moving rapidly.

"Here we go again."

Gwen stared at Andy, surprised at his words. "You've seen this before?"

"Yeah, I…"

"We've got to go," Deckard said in that very moment, standing up. "A young couple has been found mauled to death next to a club; their chests torn open and their insides ripped out."

Andy's eyes widened. "Just like that Weevil."

"Yeah," Deckard said. "We'll need your car again, PC Davidson."

Andy snapped into action. "I'll bring it up front," he said, and he hurried towards the exit. Deckard turned on his heel to follow Andy, but Gwen grabbed his arm and stopped him.

"How did you know that?" she asked, locking her gaze on his grey eyes, challenging him to lie to her.

Deckard shrugged. "It's part of my job," he said, and he continued on his way.

That kind of answer wasn't good enough for Gwen. In fact, it only made her more suspicious. And even though she meant to stay in the hospital and wait for any news from Owen, something told her that she shouldn't leave Deckard out of her sight.

"Excuse me," she said to the girl at the registration desk. "Will you be here all night?"

"Yes," the girl answered. "Is something wrong?"

"No," Gwen said quickly. "If a Dr. Owen Harper asks for me, could you tell him to phone me on my mobile? The name's Gwen Cooper."

The girl thought about it for a few seconds, something that didn't surprise Gwen; she was probably asking for too much.

'Okay," the girl said in the end, making a small note as a reminder. "As soon as I see him, I'll let him know."

"Great. Thanks," Gwen replied with a smile and rushed off after Deckard. With any luck, she would catch up with him before he and Andy took off.

She was wrong. Deckard was already getting in the car. Gwen started running faster, and she all but threw herself on the automobile's bonnet moments before it set off.

"Bloody Hell, Gwen!" Andy exclaimed, shocked. "What are you doing?"

"I'm coming with you," she said, taking a place on the passengers' seats behind the two men. "We're both after the same thing, Agent Deckard; we might as well work together," she explained to the man, who was looking at her with a small frown.

To her surprise, Deckard didn't seem angry or indignant about the particular turn of events. He just shook his head, a sigh flowing out of his lips.

"Nobody asks nicely anymore," he stated in a matter-of-fact tone. "PC Davidson, if you please…"

Andy didn't have to be told twice. In a matter of moments, the car exited the hospital swiftly, heading westwards to the crime scene.

TBC...


	4. Step Two

_A/n: Watch out for the nod to Fragments and Children Of Earth. ;)_

* * *

Jack took another turn, keeping his eyes open for anything unusual. It was true that the pouring rain didn't really help him at the moment, and he was slowly getting the unsettling feeling that he was stuck in a wild goose chase. Nevertheless, Jack also had faith in Toshiko's abilities. She would be able to locate the creature and, when that happened, Jack would make sure that that _thing _didn't hurt anyone else.

No, Jack didn't know what the creature was. Tosh's description didn't fit in with anything he had encountered in his long life, which was quite surprising. Jack supposed that the Doctor would know, but locating _him _would take up precious time Jack couldn't afford to waste. So, the former Time-agent would just have to do what he was best at: improvise and cross his fingers. After all, he doubted the creature would do anything worse than kill him.

"Jack, are you there?"

Jack snapped out of his musings and grinned, glad to hear Tosh's voice at last. "Right here. Tell me the good news, Toshiko."

"The creature is moving in the western parts of the city, across a park not too far from the main road. I don't see any people near it."

"That makes things easier for us," Jack said, pressing several buttons on the dashboard. "Send me the coordinates."

Tosh didn't speak for several moments. "Are you going after it on your own?" she asked dubiously.

"That's the plan," Jack said in a tone that clearly stated that the matter wasn't open for discussion. "Give me the coordinates."

"Jack, you can't just…"

"Tosh, that's an order!"

Silence followed, finally broken by Tosh.

"Be careful," she said softly, and then the sound of an incoming transmission told the former Time-agent that the woman had complied.

"Me? I'm Captain Jack Harkness; it's the creature that should be careful," Jack replied with a smirk, typing the coordinates on the GPS. "Thanks, Tosh."

"Jack, wait. There's something else."

Jack frowned. He could tell that Toshiko sounded troubled. "What is it?"

"I've been thinking about what you said – about the creature coming out of nowhere," she replied. "So I decided to have a look at the chart depicting the history of the Rift activity in the past week."

"And?" Jack asked, curious. As far as he knew, the Rift had stayed quiet.

"Well, at first glance, everything looks normal. No changes at all. However, when I looked closer, I noticed two spikes so tiny that they didn't set off the alarms in the Hub."

"But apparently large enough to allow something to walk in," Jack completed, understanding. "When did those spikes happen?"

"The first one at half past five in the morning," Tosh answered. "The second one about ten hours later."

"Hold on," Jack said, realizing what Tosh was _really _telling him. "So the creature either crossed during one of the two spikes, or…"

"Yes. Two beings came through," the woman said.

Jack clenched his jaw momentarily. Things didn't seem to be getting any easier, did they?

"Do you know what crossed the Rift the second time?" he asked.

"No. But I compared the two energy prints that were left behind and I can tell you that they're not identical. The second one actually belongs to a humanoid."

"Then we can worry about it later," Jack declared, and he ended the transmission.

It was time for monster-hunting.

* * *

Owen rubbed his eyes wearily, resting his elbows on his knees. He was sitting on a chair with his shoulders slumped forward, his body demanding some rest; but the man wouldn't have it. He just stayed where he was, watching Ianto; the younger man was just an arm's length away from him and attached to practically every piece of ITU equipment out there, breathing through a tube.

The doctor clasped his hands together, trying to ease their trembling and convince himself that the worst had come to pass, Ianto was alive. He didn't dare think that Ianto's heart had almost failed more than once while on the operating table, and Owen had to use his Torchwood authorisation to actually take the defibrillators and shock Ianto back to life himself. Thankfully, Dr. Simmons had supported him in his decision and even helped him, so Tea Boy was still with them.

With them, but by no means out of the woods yet.

The sound of footsteps reached his ears, but he didn't bother to look up. That is, until the smell of coffee reached his nostrils. Frowning, Owen regarded the plastic cup presented to him and then Dr. Simmons; the woman was standing right next to him, a small smile on her lips.

"You look like you need one," she said. "Mind you, I've no idea how you drink it, so I just followed my gut feeling."

Owen half-expected Ianto to open his eyes and say, 'He likes it as black as his humour', but nothing of the sort happened. With a sigh of disappointment flowing out of his lips, Owen took the cup and gulped some of the warm liquid. He controlled his wince as he realised she had made it too sweet (he had no right to act ungrateful, after all) and smiled back.

"Thanks," he murmured.

"You're welcome," Dr. Simmons said.

Neither doctor spoke for some time afterwards. In the end, though, Owen decided he still had questions that needed answering.

"How long will you keep him in a coma?"

Dr. Simmons placed her hands in the pockets of her blouse with a sigh. "We'll have to wait till the swelling on his brain is reduced to be sure. Since it's a minor one, though, I'd like to think it won't be longer than 24 hours."

Owen nodded his understanding, taking another sip of his coffee. Dr. Simmons had more to say, however.

"What does trouble me is the nature of several bruises and cuts that have nothing to do with Mr. Jones' fall. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was fighting before he fell off that building. Do you know anything about that?"

Owen preferred not to answer, but Dr. Simmons seemed to understand more than enough.

"I take it it had to do with the suspicious activity you were monitoring then."

"Yes," the man said, leaving it at that.

"Okay," Dr. Simmons said, indicating that she wasn't going to pursue the matter any further. "Are there any relatives you want to notify about Mr Jones' condition?"

Owen froze, the question surprising him. "I… know he has a sister," he answered. At least, that's what Ianto's medical files said.

"Do you have her phone number?"

"No. He… doesn't talk about her much," Owen replied truthfully enough. "He doesn't even stay in touch with her as far as I know." Come to think of it, Teaboy hardly did anything else but work. He was always the first to arrive at the base and the last one to leave, without taking any day off for himself, and he even turned down most of the team's outings to a pub or other. In fact, the longest time he had stayed away from the Hub was when Jack gave him that four-week suspension following the Cyberwoman incident.

Then again… it was no real secret why Ianto wanted to spend so many hours in the Hub. Which reminded him…

"My friends are probably still waiting to hear of any news," he said, standing up. "I should probably let them know how the situation is."

"Of course," Dr. Simmons replied with a nod of understanding.

Owen spared her a brief smile. "Thanks for the coffee."

And with that, he walked out of the room, keeping an eye open for any sign of the familiar military coat. But Jack was nowhere to be seen, and neither was Gwen, for that matter. That was something that surprised Owen, so he walked over the registration desk, where a young girl was busy organising some paperwork; he hoped she would be able to help him out.

"Excuse me, my name is Dr. Owen Harper. I'm looking for…"

"Oh yes, I was told you'd be here," the young girl said with a broad smile. "You have a message from a certain Gwen Cooper; she said to call her on her mobile."

_Well, one is accounted for,_ Owen thought. "What about the man who was with her?"

The girl seemed puzzled for a few moments. "You mean a tall, dark-haired man? Good looking one?"

"That would be him," Owen said with a mental shake of his head. Trust Captain Jack Harkness to make an impression everywhere he went, even in a hospital.

"Oh, they left together," the girl said, nodding. "They seemed to be in a hurry, too," she added helpfully.

"Yeah, I bet they did," Owen said, more to himself rather to the girl. Nevertheless, he smiled at her. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," the girl replied, but Owen was already on his way to the ITU. When he went back into Ianto's room, Dr. Simmons wasn't there; she had probably gone to see to her other patients. So, Owen took his place on the chair next to Ianto once more, his gaze locked on the comatose form.

It was a strange sight to see the Teaboy in a hospital gown and not in his usual suit. The suit always gave Ianto an air of dynamism and suavity that was rare to see in a man of his age. Yet now Owen saw that the suit also served as armour, hiding underneath it a young man who was too thin, too pale, and too fragile.

Owen let out a huff. He and Ianto hadn't always met eye to eye; the medic still had the bullet-wound on his shoulder to prove it. So why he was now watching over the young man and worrying about him was quite beyond him.

_Maybe you actually care,_ Ianto's voice sounded in Owen's mind in a teasing tone.

"Shut up," Owen said softly, yet he couldn't bring himself to be angry. "And if you tell anyone about this, I'll just deny everything; so don't even bother."

But Ianto didn't chuckle, nor did his features shine in mirth as the medic had hoped. His eyes remained closed, seemingly oblivious to everything and everyone in that dreamless state of sleep he was placed in.

Owen still didn't give up. As a doctor, he knew that there were times that people in a coma were able to sense someone else's presence in the room; even if it wasn't like those movie comas in which the hero _some_how heard every single word he was told. It just offered much needed comfort to the patient, and that was more than enough.

"I really wish you had been more open about your life," he said. "I don't know why you never mention your sister, but I get the feeling she would want to be here. She'd certainly keep you better company than I am."

The snort of laughter Owen wanted to let out died in his throat. He knew that his statement was truer than he had made it sound like. Indeed, if Ianto hadn't been in a coma, he would have sent Owen away and the medic wouldn't have blamed him for that. The words the two of them exchanged just this afternoon were too harsh and too bitter.

* * *

_Owen pursed his lips momentarily as he still studied the autopsy report in his hands. It was certainly a very old one and rather sloppily written, a doctor's usual stigma. Nevertheless, it also contained interesting information concerning the Arcateenian. Since Owen hadn't been able to obtain a live (or dead more like it) specimen for himself, he supposed reading a fellow doctor's conclusions over the matter, even if he died about fifty years ago, was better than nothing._

"_Owen."_

_Owen recognised the voice and he was hardly surprised that Ianto was there; the medic's biological clock was perfectly aware that it was almost time for some precious coffee-replenishment. He barely looked up as Teaboy placed a new cup on Owen's desk and picked up the old one to put it on its place on the tray._

"_Thanks," Owen said._

"_You're welcome."_

_Owen's eyes locked on Ianto. Though neither of them said much more than that at about this time, making this ritual a kind of established routine, the medic still registered that something was different today. Perhaps because Teaboy always sounded so irritatingly pleasant, as his job as the butler in the residence dictated, yet now the words lacked almost any emotion._

"_You alright, mate?" Owen asked._

_Ianto looked back at the medic in mild puzzlement. "Why wouldn't I be?"_

Typical Ianto, _Owen thought huffily. "You tell me. You look as if you came back from a funeral." Indeed, Owen's expert eye noticed at once the dark circles and the red-rimmed eyes, the usual symptoms of a drained man._

_Ianto's jaw tightened just for a moment, but Owen noticed it anyway. "Unless this is going to affect the team somehow, I don't think there's a problem." With that, the younger man turned on his heel to leave._

"_So I take it this is the 'Mummy and Daddy still love you' speech?" Owen asked sarcastically._

_It worked like a charm. Teaboy froze in his tracks and faced Owen._

"_I'm not blind or stupid. I was there when Jack went teary-eyed over Gwen," the medic continued on, still keeping his eyes on Ianto. "At least you can't say I didn't warn you." He shook his head in sympathy and sipped some of his coffee._

"_Just because you treat your dates as one-night stands, it doesn't mean everybody else does," Ianto replied coolly._

"_I'm not talking about everybody else," Owen pointed out. "You know Jack's past; you heard it from the very man's lips. What made you think you would be the exception?"_

_Ianto was in front of Owen in two strides, placing his hands on the desk in a threatening manner._

"_It's not like that between me and Jack," he stated, his eyes burning. "And if you didn't always get the wrong idea, maybe you would have understood that."_

_Owen would have smirked in satisfaction if he could. Though getting Teaboy wired was fun, he didn't want to earn a punch in the face; he intended to go girl-hunting later at night. He simply watched Ianto draw his shoulders back, while deft fingers straightened his tie and corrected the immaculate image the younger man was so fond of presenting. Ianto, on the other hand, didn't even bother to look back at Owen as he walked away once again._

"_If I have the wrong idea, mate… Why has Jack hardly spoken to you all day?"_

_Ianto stopped and made a motion as if wishing to turn around and give Owen a piece of his mind, but he only continued on his way without a word._

* * *

Owen sat back on the chair with a sigh, guilt eating away at him. If he had known that those would have been the last words he would have said to Teaboy… Yes, Ianto was stable for now, but that didn't mean anything; he still had as many chances to live and get better as to slip away and die. Even if he lived, there was no guarantee that he would be the same. Brain injuries, whether big or small, always had a way of leaving their mark.

At times like these, Owen wished he wasn't a medic. It only made him expect the worst.

"Ianto…" Owen frowned, rather surprised to hear the name flowing out of his lips in such a soft manner. "I'm sorry. About what I said back at the Hub. I didn't mean it." He paused, considering matters for a moment. "Well, actually, that's not entirely true. I did mean it, but I wasn't trying to be spiteful as you probably think."

He looked at his hands as if hoping he would be able to find there the right words to continue. Acerbity came far more natural to him than heart-to-heart monologues, unfortunately.

"I was engaged once, a long time ago. Before I joined Torcwhood." He looked at Ianto from the corner of his eyes, feeling a bit smug. "Now there's something you didn't know about, I bet."

A part of him was surprised that he actually talked about that chapter of his life, even more so when he realised it _didn't _hurt. Owen supposed it made matters easier for him now as he tried to explain things to Ianto.

"Katie was something else," he said, memories of the woman warming his heart. "She wasn't very open and yet you could tell what she was thinking just by looking in her eyes. Her gaze lowered when she was sad, or brightened like a thousand fireworks every time she was happy. Of course, her eyes would also be set ablaze in anger, or just throw daggers at anyone who upset her. I should know; I was at the receiving end of those looks most of the time." He chuckled.

"But even then, there was always a particular look she showed to me alone. Nobody else. It didn't matter whether we were in the middle of a crowd or only the two of us in a room. That look was there, a constant reminder of what we had… and after she died, I thought I'd never see it again.

"I did. It's in your eyes every time you look at Jack."

His only answer was the beeping of the monitors. Logically, Owen would have wondered why he kept talking if Ianto was in no condition to hear him. Nevertheless, the medic persisted.

"It's a good thing you are in a coma, or you would have started blurting out your denials by now. But I meant it when I said I'm not blind or stupid. That's why I decided to be the voice of reason since you clearly didn't listen to yours. After a converted cyberman, I'd have expected you'd know better than getting yourself involved with an immortal man who flirts with anybody with a bloody postal code.

"Then again, Jack is always full of surprises," Owen admitted. "When Gwen said that you got hurt, he was the first to sprint off to find you. And by the time I arrived at the scene, he was already by your side, holding your face and talking to you. Calling your name as if expecting you'd wake up and assure him you're still here, gazing at him with that same look Katie gave me."

Owen looked back at Ianto, a small smile tugging on his lips. "Who knows. Maybe I'll be proved wrong yet. And if that happens, I actually won't mind."

Sighing, Owen finally fell silent and closed his eyes, waiting; hoping that Ianto had the strength to pull through. For the science had done its part and it was up to the young man himself to do the rest.


	5. Step Three

Tosh still kept an eye on the monitors, biting the end of her pen in an absentminded manner. She could easily see the alien on the screen, prowling around the park slowly as if in search of something, but that wasn't her main concern. For Jack was driving towards the park, too, the GPS signal the SUV sent indicated that much. He was determined to go through with his plan, in spite of Tosh's warnings.

Tosh sighed. She didn't want Jack to go after the alien on his own, not after what happened to Ianto. But what was she supposed to do? The former Time-agent was stubborn in his best of days, let alone when there was a dangerous man-eating creature on the loose. Logically, being immortal would have taught Jack the meaning of patience, but it wasn't so.

On the other hand, Tosh supposed that immortality should have also made Jack cynical and cold-blooded. After watching everything changing for years untold and after growing attached to faces that simply came and went out of his life in the blink of an eye, one would expect Jack to acknowledge the futility of things; that everything ended in the long run. Jack still cared, though. He cared about the world and he cared about his friends. It didn't matter if said friends betrayed Jack's trust. He'd always forgive them, because he'd prefer to see the good in people's hearts rather than the bad. And if anyone dared to mess with Jack's friends… well, then they messed with him personally, a mistake they were bound to regret.

Yes, Tosh understood why Jack was doing this now. That didn't mean she approved. Ianto didn't need a vigilante; he needed the man he loved to stay at his side… even after what had transpired between them.

* * *

_Tosh always forgot herself whenever she sat in front of a laptop, working on some equation or other. This time, however, her stomach reminded her in a loud rumbling sound that it was past noon and she should eat something before she ended up unconscious on the floor. _

_Tosh checked the clock and frowned. Ianto should have come at her workstation with her lunch by now, but he was nowhere to be seen. That was certainly not like him. Unless… As a suspicion crawled in the back of her mind, Tosh went to the archives to see if Ianto was there. _

_He was. She found him leaning against one of the many bookcases, focused on the file he was holding in his hands. He was so engrossed, in fact, that he didn't even hear Tosh when she cleared her throat to announce her presence. Tosh cleared her throat again, louder this time. _

_Ianto snapped his head up in mild surprise, and his frowning expression instantly changed into a friendly smile; one that didn't quite reach the young man's eyes._

"_Hi," he said. "Can I help you?"_

"_Actually, I came down here to see you," Tosh said. "You realise that it's quarter past one?"_

_Ianto gasped in realisation and swore under his breath. "I'm sorry, I forgot myself. I'll order some takeout right now."_

"_Ianto, it's all right," the woman said soothingly. "There's no harm done."_

_Ianto didn't really pay heed to her; he had already taken out his mobile and dialled the number of a Chinese restaurant. In less than a minute, he had ordered four different dishes, asked for some extra fortune cookies, and given the address of the tourist office._

"_Done," he said with a smile, turning off the phone. "They should be here in ten minutes or so."_

_But Tosh had noticed something else, something more disconcerting. "You didn't order anything for yourself, Ianto."_

_Ianto's smile slipped for a brief moment and he lowered his gaze. "I'm not really hungry."_

_Tosh frowned. "Are you sure?"_

"_Yup," Ianto said. The smile came back, but it was much more forced than before. "I'll probably have something later."_

Has it come down to this then?_ Tosh thought sadly. A part of her warned the Japanese woman that she shouldn't pursue the matter any further; however, she considered Ianto a friend and she didn't want to see him hurt. She owed him that much._

"_Ianto," she said slowly, choosing her next words very carefully, "this morning I did my weekly scanning of the CCTV footage within the Hub."_

_Ianto blanched, which didn't surprise the woman. They both knew that, every week, it was Tosh's job to scan the CCTV footage and delete any unimportant files; it saved some valuable space on the memory databanks. It also meant that Tosh saw everything that happened within the Hub in the past week. Including…_

"_You saw my talk with Jack," the young man said, swallowing hard._

_Tosh nodded. Ianto closed his eyes in a pained manner and pinched the bridge of his nose._

"_First the takeout and now this. I'm losing my touch," he said, trying to keep his tone light and failing miserably._

"_Well, I erased it, so you don't have to worry," Tosh assured him. There was no need for Owen and Gwen to know anyway._

_Ianto opened his eyes again, a faint - albeit genuine - smile tugging on his lips. "Thank you."_

_Tosh smiled back; then walked up to him to give him a small, comforting hug. "It will be okay."_

_He tensed for several moments; then he finally relaxed and hugged her back, accepting what she offered him. Yet the words that followed, flowing out in a mere whisper, made Tosh's heart sink. _

"_I wish I could believe that."_

_With that, Ianto pulled back and walked out, murmuring that he should go to the office and wait for the delivery man._

* * *

Tosh shook her head. At times like these, she always remembered just how young Ianto really was, and how unfair things had turned out for him. While other men his age enjoyed life at its fullest, without a care in the world, he had to deal with danger and death every step of the way. And though she wanted to put the blame on Jack for finally deciding to recruit the young man, Ianto himself had chosen that kind of life. So, Tosh just wished Jack hadn't made things any more difficult for Ianto than they already were. For unfortunately, Jack acted too much like a child in that department; worse, he never seemed to realise that.

Her mobile rang, cutting into her train of thought. Tosh looked at the number on the screen, and quickly answered it when she saw it was Owen.

_Please, let it be good news…_

"Owen?"

"Yeah," the medic answered, and he told her everything concerning Ianto's current condition.

Tosh felt her heart sink. _Coma?_ _Poor Ianto…_

"When will he wake up?" she asked.

"Hopefully soon."

"And when will we know how bad is the head trauma?"

"Probably when he wakes up and starts speaking in baby talk," Owen stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

Tosh seriously hoped Owen was simply trying to tell her in his own _charming _way that nothing was certain yet, or she would throw something at him at first chance.

"Okay. Did you talk to Jack or Gwen?"

It was then that things started sounding quite wrong. Owen kept insisting Jack and Gwen were together on the hunt, while Tosh had to tell the medic over and over again that Jack was alone. So who was on the right and who was on the wrong?

Tosh counted up to ten, mustering all of her patience. "Alright, Owen. One more time. Did you actually see Jack and Gwen leave together?"

"No, but there was this girl at the registration desk who said that Gwen left with a man. Who else could that man be?"

"Owen, Jack was in the Hub more than two hours ago. I _talked _to him. In fact, I've been in contact with him ever since. Gwen _isn't_ with him," the woman said. For once in his life, could Owen stop being so stubborn and accept he made a mistake?

"Then who did Gwen leave with? Care to explain that?" Owen pointed out huffily.

"What about Rhys?" Tosh argued.

"Sure, Tosh. Because the description of a tall, dark-haired, _good-looking_ man fits Rhys like a glove."

_A fair point, _Tosh thought. "Fine. I'll call Gwen and try to get to the bottom of this."

"You do that. I'll keep an eye on Ianto," Owen replied, ending the phone-call.

Tosh hung up and closed her eyes momentarily. Just when things didn't look they could get any worse, Gwen had to go and do something like that. Honestly, when would she ever learn to stop and think for a second?

_Probably never_. The Japanese woman was sure Gwen didn't even realise how thoughtless and selfish she could be at times. Rhys practically worshipped the ground she treaded on, and she still had nerve to cast meaningful glances at Jack. And then there was the matter of disobeying direct orders to retcon Rhys because she considered Torchwood a prison and she wanted some freedom. If Tosh had been more dynamic, she would have slapped Gwen and told her that she should be grateful she didn't spend three years in a _real_ prison; otherwise, she would have known what actual freedom was. No one had twisted her arm in joining, after all.

That, however, was neither here nor there anymore. Gwen had her faults, just like the rest of them, and that was that. What was important now was that a member of the Torchwood team was injured, and they had to work together to catch the creature who had done this. With that settled in her mind, Tosh started dialling Gwen's number.

* * *

By the time Gwen, Andy and Deckard arrived at the scene of the crime, the police and several curious citizens had already gathered around as well. Even so, all three were resolved to reach the scene, no matter what. Andy parked his car next to the other police vehicles and, once he stepped out, he pushed his way through the bystanders, making room for Gwen and Deckard to pass as well.

Gwen had to admit to herself that Andy knew how to tower over others and declare his authority. She could also say the same for Deckard, too. His friendly smile and clear gaze was gone, and the only thing that was currently reflected in his grey eyes was sheer determination; he was set to do work.

"Hey, Andy. Didn't expect to see you here," one of the policemen said, noticing Andy coming out of the crowd. "And you even have company," he added, grinning in Gwen's direction. "So did you get tired of your Special Ops thing and decided to see your old friends, ex-constable Cooper?"

Gwen opened her mouth to speak, but Deckard turned out to be faster. "To be exact, Miss Cooper is helping me in a case that's connected to the double homicide you're now investigating. May we see the bodies?"

The constable regarded Deckard curiously for many long moments. It didn't take a great mind to see that he wasn't particularly impressed by the agent. "You may, as soon as you can state your name, Mr…?"

"Deckard. CIA," the agent responded, taking out of his pocket his ID.

The constable gasped.

"Not that one," Andy all but chanted, knowing the usual drill.

"What he said," Deckard seconded, pointing at Andy with his thumb. "However, that doesn't make my presence pointless. I need to see those bodies, and I'd rather do that with your cooperation rather than without it."

The constable pursed his lips momentarily, and then stepped aside. "You can talk to Inspector Evans. He's over there." He nodded in the direction of a portly man who was standing in the centre of the alley, conversing privately with his assistant.

"Thank you," Deckard replied, and he walked towards the two men.

Gwen winced inwardly. She had heard of Inspector Evans and she knew that if there was something that he hated, it was someone else interfering with his work. Hopefully, Deckard would mellow his way into the crime scene and she wouldn't have to use her Torchwood authorisation. Things between the police and them were strained and they didn't need to make things any worse.

"Excuse me, are you Inspector Evans?" Deckard asked.

The inspector stared at Deckard in evident disapproval. "I'm sorry, but the crime scene is closed to civilians."

"With all due respect, that's not what I asked," Deckard replied, dead serious.

Gwen groaned under her breath.

"Very well. Yes, I'm Inspector Evans," the man said, narrowing his eyes. "But I should point out that you now have me at a disadvantage, sir. I don't know _your _name."

"Deckard, CIA."

Andy opened his mouth to speak, but Deckard raised his hand; the agent had apparently grown tired of hearing the same mantra. "I believe you've found two bodies that are of interest to me."

Evans tensed. "I have. The problem, Agent Deckard, is that the bodies are of interest to me as well."

Deckard smiled, though Gwen didn't miss the frosty bite in it. "I doubt you know what you're dealing with."

"Look, mate, if it's the missing livers you're concerned about, the coroner's already told me all about it," Evans said, losing patience. "So don't go trying to prove your American bravado on me."

Gwen and Andy exchanged a look, the same thought crossing their minds. If Deckard lost his temper now, they would have to intervene and fast.

Surprisingly, however, Deckard didn't get angry; he wasn't even insulted. "Livers? Both of them?" he asked.

"Surprised?" Evans sounded quite pleased after getting the better of the agent. "Though it was already fairly obvious to begin with, the coroner's confirmed that both the victims' livers are missing; torn out by the looks of it."

"By a double set of sharp teeth," Deckard said. "Tell me, Inspector Evans... Did the bites resemble a shark's?"

Evans looked at Deckard in stunned shock.

"I'll take that as a yes. Thank you, Inspector Evans."

Deckard turned on his heel and started walking away. Gwen blinked several times as she processed what had just happened and then she chased after Deckard, an equally perplexed Andy close to her heels.

"What was that about?" she asked, keeping up with the agent the best she could; the man walked quite swiftly. "That's all you wanted to do? To check what the creature ate? Those two people had a life… a name!"

"They did, but I hardly think they were edible," Deckard said.

"So now we know it's fed," Andy said, "What good is that to us?"

"A lot," Deckard replied. "It means she will try to find a quiet place where she can rest and digest her food properly. Unless provoked, she will stay low for the next couple of hours till she decides to go hunting again."

"_She?_" Gwen echoed, her eyes wide. "You even know its gender?!"

"I know more than that," Deckard said. "She's nocturnal, resting by day when sunlight bathes her with energy that she can consume by night, whilst hunting. She can hear an ant walking from a mile away and she can see a living thing in absolute darkness by sensing its heat. Her jaws can break just about everything and her claws can rip her victims to shreds. In fact, you should consider your friend very lucky to be alive, Miss Cooper."

"But if you knew so much about it, why didn't you say something sooner?" Gwen exclaimed, anger igniting in her heart. "Those two people would have probably been still alive if we had acted more quickly!"

"I hardly remained idle, Miss Cooper," Deckard replied firmly. "I tracked her here and then followed her to the place she killed the Weevil, which brought me to you, which brought us here. Every step I've taken so far has also taken me one step closer to her." He stopped in his tracks, and he placed a reassuring hand on Gwen's shoulder. "I couldn't save that couple. The least I can do is make sure nobody else is killed."

Though still angry, Gwen realised that what Deckard said made sense. So, she brought her temper back in check and she nodded her understanding.

"Alright. I'm listening."

Deckard faced Andy. "What time is it, PC Davidson?"

Andy checked his watch. "Just over half-past three."

The agent crossed his arms, thinking hard. "That gives us about an hour to find her," he mused aloud.

"That doesn't sound too difficult," Andy said. "Then again, we don't know from where to start looking for her."

"No, but we can try and narrow it down. She prefers--"

Deckard never finished his sentence as Gwen's phone started ringing loudly. Wincing, Gwen dug out her mobile and took refuge at a small threshold nearby in order to talk.

"Hello?"

"Gwen, it's me. Where are you?"

"Tosh?" Gwen was quite surprised to hear the Japanese woman's voice. "Has something happened?"

"Owen called. He said Ianto's in a medical-induced coma. They placed him in the ITU and they'll keep him under close surveillance for the next twenty-four hours."

"Is he going to be okay then?"

"Owen said it's too early to tell."

Gwen was sure that Owen didn't use those exact words; she knew him too well. "Has he phoned Jack?"

"No," Tosh replied. "He seems to have the impression that Jack is with you."

Gwen blinked. "What on Earth gave him that idea?"

"Let me see," Tosh said, and Gwen was sure that she heard the sound of typing. "Are you with a tall, good-looking man at the moment?"

_Oh dear…_ Gwen couldn't help but blush. "He's an American agent called Deckard. He knows what attacked Ianto and he's been helping out."

"Is that so?" Tosh replied. Her teasing tone vanished at the next moment, however. "Wait a minute… Is he near you now?"

Frowning, Gwen looked in Deckard's direction. He faced her, but she smiled, pretending nothing was wrong. "Yes."

"How close are we talking about?"

"I don't know. A couple of feet away, maybe more, maybe less," Gwen answered. "Why?"

"Is somebody else next to him?"

Gwen decided this was getting silly. "Yes. I believe I've told you about Andy before. What's wrong, Tosh?"

"I don't know what he's told you," Tosh said, and Gwen picked up the sound of typing again, "but I can tell you this: Agent Deckard has come from the Rift."

Gwen felt her eyes widening. "Are you sure?"

"Since your mobile's signalling where you are, I took the liberty of scanning the area. Agent Deckard is practically covered in residual Rift energy."

Gwen swallowed hard and she cast a discreet glance in the man's direction again. He certainly didn't look alien, but that didn't mean anything; she had heard of a lot of shape-shifting aliens…

Still, even if Deckard _was _alien, should it matter? It was fairly obvious that he wanted to catch that creature as badly as Torchwood did. If anything, he was helping them.

"Gwen? Did you hear me?" Tosh asked.

"Yeah, I did," Gwen said, remembering herself, "But I don't think we have to worry."

"He's on our side then?"

"Looks like it."

"Okay." Tosh sounded satisfied with the answer. "Then tell Agent Deckard that I've located the creature in a park not far from where you are. But you'd better hurry; Jack's already on his way there."

"Alone?"

Tosh didn't answer nor did she have to. Gwen closed her eyes.

"Alright. We'll go there as soon as possible. Thanks, Tosh." With that, she hung up and walked up to Andy and Agent Deckard.

"Who was that?" Andy asked, intrigued.

"A colleague," Gwen replied evasively. "She said she located the creature."

Deckard looked up at those words. "Did she?"

Gwen grinned slightly. "I guess it was a good thing you let me tag along, after all."

Deckard smiled back. "Touché. Show us the way, Miss Cooper."

"Okay," Gwen said, beckoning the men to follow her. "It's this way. Come on!"

* * *

Tosh closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead in a weary manner. She wanted to believe she had done the right thing telling Gwen about the creature's whereabouts; because, if she had complicated matters just because she didn't want Jack hurt, she would never forgive herself.

The laptop beeped at that very moment, making her look up. To her alarm, the screen blinked, signalling an incoming transmission from an unknown IP address. Although she had to admit she was rather discomfited by this turn of events, the message seemed to be clear of any threats; so, she pressed enter to accept it.

The message itself appeared on screen in big letters.

_Thank you for your help._ _Deckard._

"How did…?" she breathed out, yet her question died in her throat; she was at a loss for words.

At another part of the city and unbeknownst to Gwen and Andy, the agent's eyes regained their focus and he continued running with them towards the park.

TBC...


	6. Confrontation

It didn't take long for Jack to reach the park. There were hardly any cars at this time of night and, moreover, it was still pouring down. Though that kind of weather usually dampened Jack's spirits significantly, this time he actually welcomed the particular element of nature; it would help him in his investigation.

He parked the SUV in a wide space opposite the park, then stepped out, carrying a torch in hand. The park was poorly lit, and he wanted to be able to see the ground. For if there was something that the former Time-agent had learned in his long life, it was that nothing vanished without a trace. There was always something left behind. Like footprints. Jack's eyes instantly locked on a large puddle of mud, and he saw the print of a paw in the centre of it. More importantly, it didn't belong to any kind of animal Jack knew, which meant he was on the right track.

Clenching his jaw, the former Time-agent took out his Webley and cocked it; if the creature was anywhere nearby, he would be prepared for it. He trod carefully, barely making a sound as he followed the creature's trail. His coat grew heavy as it became soaked in water and his heart beat fast against his chest, yet he kept himself focused and calm. This wasn't the time for impatience, but payback. Jack would make sure this creature stayed in the Torchwood vaults for the rest of its existence.

Finally, Jack heard a branch cracking in two as someone stepped on it. Seizing his chance, the former Time-agent directed his torch in the direction he heard the snap, hoping to see the distortion he had been looking for in the falling rain. Light showered a large bush with green leaves, but other than that, there was nothing.

Or was there? As Jack stayed perfectly still, he noticed the vapour-like signs of a living thing breathing slowly, almost carefully. Jack was even positive that he could feel a pair of eyes watching him… studying him. Gritting his teeth, Jack held up his gun at the level of the invisible breath. Nothing stirred for many long moments, both adversaries waiting to see who would be bold enough to make the first move. It was a contest of wills; a showdown very much like those in the western movies where the gunslingers kept their hands close to their guns, fingers twitching and eager to fire.

Something brushed against the leaves of the bush - possibly the creature's tail if Jack had to guess, but he didn't care. He just pulled the trigger, hardly flinching as the deafening sound filled the air. A roar of pain told Jack that he had found his target, but he had no time to linger on that thought for long. A great weight suddenly hit his chest and he felt the stinging pain of claws digging through his clothes into his flesh. Crying out, he used the butt of his Webley as a cub and started hitting what hoped it was the creature's head.

There was another snarl, and the claws loosened their grip on Jack. In the next moment, Jack felt the unmistakable sensation of teeth burying themselves in his forearm, forcing him to let go of his weapon. He felt his bones almost breaking at the terrible force of the bite; nevertheless he didn't give up. He kicked with all his strength the creature's body and tore himself free. His blood gushed out, spilling everywhere, even on the creature's face, marking the invisible muzzle.

If it were any other man facing the creature, they would probably be sickened at the unnatural sight. Jack, however, didn't waver. As an idea crossed his mind, he grasped a big handful of mud and threw it at the creature. Brown splotches instantly covered the creature's head and neck, and Jack found himself staring at lizard-like features with bared teeth and a scaly skin.

"Now there's a face only a mother could love. No wonder you stay invisible," Jack commented dryly.

The creature let out a great growl, its teeth dripping with Jack's blood.

"Well, come on! What are you waiting for?" Jack urged, grabbing a piece of wood and holding it up as a weapon. "Just try and get me!"

The creature circled Jack, its eyes searching for an opening in order to attack. Its movements were deliberate and calculating, and Jack wasn't sure at first what to think of it. That is, until he noticed the blood and mud were slowly being washed away by the rain. The former Time-agent gritted his teeth as he realised that the creature was simply bidding its time.

"Ugly, but smart," he commented. Not intending to play its game, he let out a great cry and tackled the creature, wrapping his arms around what he hoped was its neck.

The creature kicked and snarled as both adversaries landed on the ground, yet Jack didn't let go. If he held on long enough, he might be able to cut its airway…

He never had the chance. The creature managed to twist around in Jack's arms and opened its jaws wide. Jack screamed in pain as the terrible teeth sank in his skin again, this time aiming for his jugular. He struggled, trying to get himself free somehow, but it was hopeless; the creature had pinned him down. A croon of triumph rang close to his ear and, at the next moment, the teeth sank further in his throat. They practically ripped him apart, but Jack couldn't scream anymore. His voice was cut off by the relentless jaws. He attempted to punch the creature's face, but his strength had all but left him. Tendrils of black covered his eyes, and Jack now knew beyond any doubt that he was dying.

_I hope you choke on me,_ Jack thought, even though he doubted the creature could read his mind.

"Jack!"

_Gwen?_ A part of him wondered if his ears were playing tricks on him, yet another couldn't possibly bring himself to care. He just wanted to let go.

The last thing he registered before nothingness overcame him was a loud bang.

* * *

Gwen finally came to a halt next to the lone street-lamp that was close to the park and she leaned against it to catch her breath. The run had been quite hard, even though she had already been used to chasing Weevils. Then again, chasing Weevils seemed like a field trip compared to this. She looked back, just in time to see Andy and Agent Deckard coming up to her.

"Is this the place?" Deckard asked, scanning the area.

"Yeah," Gwen said, panting. "That's our SUV, over there," she added, pointing at the parked vehicle.

"Okay, call me mad, but a park hardly qualifies as a lair," Andy pointed out, turning on his torch and casting its light about.

"She's invisible; nobody can see her," Deckard pointed out. "Even if there's any sort of danger, she can keep a better eye on it out in the open."

"There goes our chance of surprising her then," Gwen said. "So how are we supposed to catch her?"

"There's no 'we' this time," Deckard replied, unzipping his jacket. His hand reached for a gun-like weapon and he held it up, cocking it. "I'm going on my own."

"No way!" Gwen exclaimed. "That's not up to you to decide!"

"One person can approach her close enough without alarming her. If we all go, we might as well throw a parade while at it," Deckard reasoned.

"What about Jack?" the woman argued. "If he's already here…"

The thundering sound of a gunshot filled the air, making all three look in the same direction.

"There's your answer," Andy said wryly.

"And so much for subtlety," Deckard muttered under his breath. He faced Gwen and Andy. "Alright, change of plans. Have your guns on the ready and give me backup. Just don't shoot unless you absolutely have to. Is that clear?"

_Now that is a familiar sight, _Gwen thought. Indeed, Agent Deckard sounded almost like Jack the way he took charge of the situation and expected to be obeyed, no questions asked. Nevertheless, he nodded and took out her gun. There was no more time to lose, not now that Jack's life was at stake.

Andy, however, didn't move.

"PC Davidson, your gun," Deckard said, facing the man.

"I don't have one. I only have this," Andy answered, holding up his club.

Deckard seemed to think about it for a few seconds. "It will do. Let's go."

Neither Gwen nor Andy had to be told twice. Deckard seemed quite sure about the way they should go, and it didn't take long for the woman to realise why. The light from Andy's torch revealed the creature's footprints on the ground, as well as the familiar indentations of Jack's boots.

_Damn it, Jack, couldn't you wait?_ the woman thought wryly. She hoped that that kind of mistake wouldn't cost Jack his life. Again.

The scream that cut through the air in that very moment proved her wrong.

"Jack!" she cried out. Before she even realised what she was doing, she rushed in the direction of the scream as fast as her legs could carry her. She didn't pay heed to Andy as the man called her back, nor indeed to the curse that flowed out of Agent Deckard's mouth. She had to help Jack.

Finally, she found him. The man was on the ground, looking as if he was punching and kicking the air; but Gwen was aware in an instant what he was struggling with. She cocked her gun, but she quickly realised that she didn't know where she was supposed to aim. She swallowed hard.

"Get down!"

Gwen complied purely out of instinct, and not a moment too soon. A bang rang over the falling rain, followed close behind by a loud, painful snarl. Gwen could only watch in horror as Jack was immediately tossed away like a ragdoll, hitting the ground with a sickening thud. She immediately sprang back on her feet and she ran at Jack's side. Just as she had feared, the former Time-Agent wasn't breathing, and she couldn't feel any pulse either. He was dead.

"How is he?" Andy asked, looking at Jack's wounds with a visible wince.

Gwen bit her lower lip, unsure of what to say. If she said he was alive, Andy and Agent Deckard would find it suspicious that she didn't try to help him. If she said he was dead, though, Jack's revival would be a harder thing to explain.

"PC Davidson, I saw a small pathway nearby," Deckard said then, kneeling next to Jack and searching his pockets till he found what he had been looking for: a set of car keys. He threw them to Andy in one swift motion. "Try to bring the SUV as close as possible. We might have to carry this man."

Andy nodded and sprinted off, seeing to his task immediately. Gwen watched him go, relieved. Now if only she could think of something to tell Agent Deckard…

"How long does it take?"

Gwen snapped her head up and stared at Deckard incredulously. "How long does _what _take?" she asked, pretending ignorance.

Deckard gave her a look that clearly said he wasn't easily fooled. "You called that man Jack just a few minutes ago. There's only one Torchwood member with that name presently and that is Captain Jack Harkness. The man who's almost as old as Torchwood itself."

Gwen felt her cheeks reddening. "You seem to know a lot about us, Agent Deckard. Should I be worried?"

"Only if I were after you," Deckard replied candidly.

Their conversation was cut short when Jack suddenly opened his eyes and he gasped back to life. Gwen quickly pinned him down before his flailing arms and legs hit her and Deckard.

"Jack, it's only me," she said as soothingly as possible. "It's okay; you're safe."

Jack stopped struggling at once, his eyes locking on Gwen's face. "Did I get it?" he asked hoarsely.

Gwen sighed and shook her head.

"Damn it." Jack pushed himself in a sitting position, and he looked at Deckard. "And you are…?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

For the first time since she met him, Gwen saw Deckard actually hesitating to answer. "I… uh…"

The woman huffed inwardly. Apparently, not even mysterious agents could resist Jack's charms.

"He's Agent Deckard. He's been helping us with the case," she explained.

"Agent, huh?" Jack said, giving Deckard a scrutinising once over. "You're not Torchwood."

That snapped Deckard back to his previous confident self. "No, I'm not. I work for CIA."

Jack frowned. "I only know two CIAs… and only one of them would know about aliens."

"Yup. _That _one," Deckard said.

"You've heard of it then?" Gwen asked the former Time-agent, even though a part of her wasn't surprised in the least.

"Mr. Deckard here works for the Colonial Intergalactic Agency, an organisation that was formed in the late 50th century to preserve the rights and interests of the human colonies in alien galaxies. I suppose you could say that he's some kind of space ranger," Jack explained before facing Deckard once more. "You're a long way from home, Agent Deckard."

"So is she," Deckard replied. "But I guess you already knew that."

"She? No wonder she got pissed off when I called her ugly," Jack said with a smirk. "So why is CIA so interested in the particular alien?"

"She's not an alien… per se," Deckard said. "She's a human creation."

"What? How's that possible?" Gwen exclaimed, staring at the Agent incredulously.

"Oh, I think I have an idea…" Jack said.

Deckard opened his mouth to speak, but it was in that very moment that the SUV arrived, halting just a couple of feet away from them. Andy stepped out, a silly grin plastered on his face.

"Now that's one car I wouldn't mind driving every day!" he said. "Its engine practically purrs and it moves so smoothly it feels like it's gliding on the road."

Jack stared at Gwen with a face that clearly said 'You have _got_ to be kidding me', and the woman couldn't help but smile sheepishly. She certainly had a lot of explaining to do once this was over.

"Bloody hell," Andy noted, seeing Jack sitting up. "I really thought you were done for, mate."

"Well, he's in luck," Deckard said, waving the matter off before Andy lingered on it for too long, and then he looked back at Jack. "Can you get up?"

Gwen hadn't expected to hear a caring tone in Deckard's words, and she was sure Jack was quite perplexed about it, too; she could see it in the way he regarded the agent. That is, until the immortal man grinned once more as if everything was quite normal.

"You should have seen me taking on Banthors in an arena," he declared. "Now _that's _dangerous wrestling!"

"I'd rather I didn't; I'd arrest you for participating in illegal sports," Deckard replied in a dry tone, nevertheless offering Jack his hand for support.

"Really?" Jack said with a frown as he stood up. "Since when has it been illegal?"

"Well…"

"Excuse me, I hate to cut your catching up," Gwen declared with a roll of her eyes, "but could we go after that man-eating creature that's on the loose?"

"Tosh knows how to keep track of it," Jack replied. "But we're going to need to get in the SUV. And _I'm _driving," he added, looking at Andy warningly.

Andy raised his hands in a gesture of peace, a wise move; so Jack stepped into the car and sat on the driver's seat, waiting patiently for the others to come in as well. As soon as everyone was buckled up, the former Time-agent stepped on the gas and drove off at top speed.

"Mr. Harkness, about the creature…" Deckard started, but Jack hardly paid heed to him. He just tapped his bluetooth once, opening the communication frequencies.

"Toshiko, you there?" he asked.

"Oh, thank God," the Japanese woman exclaimed, her relief quite audible. "Are you alright?"

"Pissed off at our guest, but great otherwise," Jack replied. "Sending reinforcements was hardly necessary."

Gwen sighed, and she was sure Tosh blushed in embarrassment at those words.

"Said the man who has… _had_ a gaping hole in his throat," Andy noted, looking at Jack in an odd mixture of indignation and puzzlement.

"Had worse from shaving," Jack replied dismissively, and he returned his focus to the other matter at hand. "Tosh, are you still tracking the creature?"

"Yeah, about that…" Deckard started again, but Jack raised a hand, silencing him.

"Yes, I am, but I don't know for how much longer," Tosh answered.

Jack tensed. "Don't tell me…"

"I'm afraid so," Tosh said. "The rain is subsiding."

Gwen looked out the window, only to see that Tosh was right. It wasn't raining as hard as it did before.

"Okay, then we'll have to act quickly," Jack declared. "Where is it now?"

"A block away from you, close to… Damn it!"

"Tosh?" Jack frowned, not liking the sound of that.

"I lost it. It must have taken refuge under some form of shed."

"Any idea where she's heading?" Jack asked, his frown deepening.

"None at all," Tosh answered with a sigh.

"She's heading north. Just keep driving straight ahead and then turn right."

Everyone, even Jack, looked in the direction of Agent Deckard, who sighed in a tired manner.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you," he said. "I shot a tracking device on her, which has been transmitting her location to me."

"So you never meant to kill her?" Gwen asked curiously.

"I can't afford to kill her," Deckard replied. "I was ordered to bring her back alive."

"Why am I not surprised?" Jack said wryly.

"Right. I think it's high time we back up for a while so you can tell us the whole story, Agent Deckard," Andy said. "Why would your superiors want that thing alive?"

"Because it's an investment of the human colonies in section C-27," Deckard explained. "The labs had been working for years to create a genetically engineered weapon which could be used for scouting and suicide missions. Think it in terms of First and Second World War, where opposing armies applied dogs to help out in the cause."

"Except she had other ideas, apparently," Jack pointed out. "How did she escape?"

"She didn't," Deckard answered. "She was taken."

"The Rift?" Gwen asked.

The agent nodded. "CIA asked the Time-agency to help out, and they gave me a crash-course in the basics of time travelling. A week later, I was ready, so the Time Agency pinpointed her location and sent me here through the Rift."

"I'm surprised they sent you alone," Jack noted, raising an eyebrow. "It usually takes two to do that kind of job."

"I'm as good as two men," Deckard answered. "Especially when it comes to tracking down my targets."

"Even without tracking devices in your hand?" Gwen asked sceptically. Indeed, the agent didn't carry any kind of mechanism to indicate he _was _tracking down the creature.

"I don't need one."

Gwen looked at Deckard, and he returned the gaze, tapping near his temple. Only from that angle and under the particular lighting did she notice something very peculiar about the agent's eyes. The retina seemed to reflect the light, giving the impression of an orange eyeshine. It was as if she was looking at a cat's eyes rather than a human's.

"I'm not an alien if that's what you're thinking," Deckard replied, noticing her frown. "I'm human… for the most part."

"Then what's with the eyes?" Gwen asked before she could help it.

"51st Century technology," Jack said. "Agent Deckard's eyes are cybernetic and, unless I'm grossly mistaken, heavily modified."

"Modified?" Andy asked.

"They've installed on me a microchip that serves as a digital information manager," Deckard explained. "It enables me to access the World Wide Web and synchronise myself with it, keeping me updated on all sorts of info at all times."

"Like a PDA! Of course!" Gwen said as Deckard's odd behaviour finally made sense now. "You knew about the events because you kept yourself wired to the internet!"

"Yup," the agent said.

"Hang on. Are you saying that in the future everyone is going to have PDAs installed in their heads?"

"Just those with disabilities," Deckard said, his voice unusually soft.

Gwen winced. "What happened?"

"An explosion," Deckard replied. "My colony was attacked by Arbas invaders."

Jack instantly tensed. "When was that?"

"When I was six years old," the agent answered, looking at Jack quite intently. "I'm not sure how many years it's been for you, Sir."

Jack looked at the mirror, catching Deckard's face. In the next moment, recognition flashed in the immortal man's eyes.

"Cor?"

Gwen looked at Jack and then back at Deckard, unsure what to make of that revelation. She tapped her bluetooth slowly, contacting Tosh.

"Tosh? We'll get back at you."

It was high time Jack explained himself.

TBC...


	7. Memories Of The Future

_Some time in the 50__th__ Century…_

_He stepped carefully, trying not to disturb the debris that he trod on; the rubble was loose and he could lose his balance at any moment. Nevertheless, the man who answered to the name Jack Harkness persisted. He wanted to have a good view of his surroundings and, to do that, he'd have to be somewhere high._

_He winced when he saw the image of destruction and desolation that unfolded before his eyes. The town that used to be known as Kaon was no more. All that remained was debris and dust. The day was bright and clear, a typical spring day. Yet the only life that he could see were the crow-like birds that circled in the sky, specks of black in vibrant blue. Jack didn't want to think what kind of meal they were feasting on._

_Still, the place was perfect for the kind of meeting he and John had arranged. They would be away from any prying eyes. More importantly, they would be far away from the eyes of the law, for Kaon was supposedly off limits to everyone. According to the latest reports, there had been no survivors and there was still the fear of another raid. The Arbas clan was known for its cruelty, and the authorities chose to organise proper defenses rather than salvage missions._

_Jack, however, knew there wouldn't be another raid. He and John had done their homework, and so they knew the fArbas had never managed to harass another colony again. This was the last of three attacks that had exposed them to human ailments, and their bodies were never prepared for them. The diseases they had caught had wiped most of them out in less than a year. In short, the place was safe and private. He and John could sit down and share their loot in peace._

_He climbed down once more, and he started walking the one road that wasn't blocked by crumbled buildings and broken beams. The croaks high above and his footsteps echoed in the eerie silence that reigned, yet Jack was relaxed. Even in the unlikely chance that there _was _something dangerous out there, he was ready for it._

_Speaking of which… Jack started having the unsettling feeling that he wasn't alone. He couldn't really place it but… it felt like a motion that the former Time-agent caught just from the corner of his eye._

"_John?" Jack called._

_There was no answer. Of course there wasn't. If John was really there, then he would have already made his presence known in his unique way; walk up to Jack and lock their lips in a deep, mind-blowing kiss. So who was really out there?_

_Jack instantly held the rifle closer to himself, loading it._

"_I've got a friend here who can assure you I'm not in the mood for games," Jack called again. "You'd better show yourself or I'll let _him_ do the talking."_

_Something clattered, and Jack spun around, already aiming. All that he saw, however, was a piece of metal plating falling from a pile of rubble nearby and landing on the ground with a heavy thud._

Now that didn't fall on its own,_ Jack reasoned to himself. Clenching his jaw, he started walking towards the rubble, one step at a time. Two could play that kind of game, after all, and if he got a little closer…_

_There, an opening. And Jack could see through that opening some kind of movement. As his lips tugged to a smirk, he jumped forward, ready to fire… but he stopped himself at the last minute; for there was no monster or alien before him. It was the quivering form of a child, hugging his knees as he sobbed quietly, his face buried in his arms. Jack felt his eyes widening and he lowered his rifle before he even realised what he was doing. _

_This… this wasn't right. The boy was wearing the traditional Kaon clothing, or what was left from it anyway. But he had read the reports and he had studied his _History_. There had been no survivors._

"_Where are your mom and dad?" Jack asked, although it was probably a foolish question. The destruction around him provided the answer to that already._

_The boy made no attempt to reply. He simply kept trembling, sobs wracking his small body. For the first time in a long while, Jack wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. The kid didn't look more than six, maybe seven-years-old at the most, and he was in shock._

"_It's okay… I'm not going to hurt you," Jack said, reaching a hand out to the boy, while he kept his tone gentle and kind; the last thing Jack needed was to frighten him._

_The boy flinched at Jack's touch for a moment, and he pulled himself away. Jack just reached out once more and placed an arm across the small shoulders. Small, like Grey's…_

"_Are you alone?" he asked, looking in every direction. The boy's parents might have been dead but, since the boy was alive, there could be others as well._

"_Yes."_

_The voice was tiny and hoarse, barely audible, and Jack was almost taken aback when the boy curled practically into a ball and cocooned himself in the man's broad chest. The former Time-agent winced; the small body was cold... too cold._

"_How long have you been out here?" he asked, rubbing the body in the hopes of putting some warmth back into it._

"_I don't know, sir," the boy replied softly._

_Jack supposed it was logical; the boy was too young to tell him the exact time. "Well, how many times did the sun rise?" he asked, hoping that would make things clearer._

"_I don't know, sir."_

_Now that had Jack frowning. "You can count, can't you?"_

"_I can't see the sun, sir."_

_Jack swallowed hard, realising what the boy was telling him. "What's your name?" he asked._

"_Cornelius, sir," the boy said; his sobs subsided, a good sign. It meant he was getting relaxed around Jack and trusting him._

"_Cornelius?" Jack said, plastering a smile on his lips. "That's kinda long for me. Mind if I call you Cor?"_

"_No, sir," the boy replied._

"_Okay," Jack said with some relief. He was definitely making progress. "Cor, there's something I want you to do for me. It will be difficult, but you'll need to be very brave and just do it, all right?"_

"_What is it, sir?" Cor asked, not really understanding._

"_I want you to look up and turn your head in the direction of my voice," Jack replied. "Can you do that for me, Cor?"_

_Cor trembled slightly. Nevertheless, he complied, turning his head up. Jack winced at the sight. Cor's eyes had been burnt away, leaving only ruined skin behind. It was as if someone had taken a watercolour portrait and smudged the upper part, mutilating what once was a beautiful face._

A bomb. No doubt about it.

"_Are you hurting?" he asked._

"_Not so much as at first," Cor admitted truthfully._

_Jack clenched his jaw. He didn't dare think what the boy had been through, feeling the burns eating at his face for hours on end. And what if that had happened to Jack himself? Hadn't he felt the horror of any invasion, too? It was only luck that had saved him from anything worse happening to him._

_Damn John and the loot, this was more important. Jack picked up the boy in his arms and held him close. Though alarmed momentarily, Cor quickly buried himself in Jack's chest with a sigh, grateful for the warmth he was offered._

"_Hey, Cor… Do you want me to show you a magic trick?"_

"_Will I be able to see it?" Cor asked in a murmur._

"_No, but you'll be able to hear it," Jack said. "I have this bracelet that can take me anywhere I want on the count of ten."_

"_Really?" Cor asked._

"_Oh yeah," Jack said, chuckling. "I will just press these buttons," at that, the former Time-agent started putting down the coordinates, "and by the time you say 'Ten', we'll be in a place full of people where they will take care of you."_

"_Will they stop my eyes from hurting?" Cor asked, his voice finally carrying a tinge of hope._

"_And a lot more," Jack promised. "Trust me."_

_Cor pursed his lips and nodded, something that made Jack smile. The boy was quite brave, that was for sure._

"_Good," he said, tightening his grip on the small form in a protective manner. "Start counting."_

"_One, two, three, four, five…"_

_Before Cor would utter the word six, both humans had vanished and gotten teleported to the 51__st__ century._

* * *

"You took a six-year-old boy and teleported him through time?" Gwen asked, her eyes widening.

"I knew a friend who worked in a medical facility and owed me a favour," Jack explained. "I knew he'd take care of Cor."

"What Captain Harkness avoids to mention is that he even gave his loot as payment so I could have my eyes fixed," Deckard said, smiling fondly in the direction of the former Time-agent.

"You're kidding me!" Andy exclaimed, and he looked at Jack. "You really did that?!"

Gwen had to admit that she was just as surprised. Jack could be harsh and cruel at times, going as far as refusing to help someone who needed help if it meant ensuring the greater good. He didn't hesitate to order Ianto to execute Lisa, he handed a little girl to the Fairies, and he didn't even want to open the Rift so that Rhys would be saved. And yet Agent Deckard was the living proof of Jack's potential kindness.

"They served their purpose," Jack said in a dismissive manner, keeping his eyes on the road. "And I'm starting to think it's no coincidence that you and my friend share the same last name."

Deckard nodded. "His wife always wanted a boy, sir."

Jack actually smiled. "I'm glad everything worked out for you."

"You had promised it, sir," Deckard replied. "What I don't understand is how you ended up in Torchwood."

"Oh boy, now _that's_ a long story," Jack said with a heavy sigh. "If you're interested, I'll tell you all about it once our hunt is over."

"I'd like that," Deckard replied. His smile vanished in the next moment, however, and Gwen noticed that the agent's eyes moved rapidly once more. Except this time she knew that Deckard was simply reading the information the PDA was giving him. "She's stopped. Turn left, then park."

"Bad idea," Andy pointed out. "What if she starts running again?"

"She can, but it won't do her any good," Jack said, checking the GPS. "She's reached a dead-end."

"And we'll be waiting for her on the other side," Deckard said, taking out his gun.

"I thought you weren't supposed to kill her," Gwen said, eyeing the weapon in confusion.

"I'm not; I'm loading it with tranquilisers," Deckard said. "I've only got three doses, though."

"Then we'd better make the most out of our opportunity," Jack mused in a loud tone, and he parked the SUV in a convenient place nearby. All four of them stepped out of the vehicle and Deckard started following the signal. Jack, Gwen and Andy followed close behind, trusting the agent to guide them to the creature.

"Hello! What's this?" Andy exclaimed, directing his torch on the pavement.

Jack and Gwen looked down as well, noticing the red droplets of blood. They were few and far between and almost washed away by the rainwater. Even so, it was fairly easy to tell what direction the creature had taken. More importantly, it was the direction Deckard was now taking.

"We're on the right track," Jack said. He took out his Webley once more and cocked it.

"Cor said we're not meant to hurt her," Gwen said in a low tone.

"That doesn't mean I should leave everything to chance," Jack argued. "She hates loud noises. That means the gunshots will make her think twice about attacking us."

"It didn't really help before," Andy said logically.

"Hey, I'm still here," Jack said, facing Andy with a grin. But when he looked forward again, Gwen winced to see that the immortal man's smug expression changed to one of grimness. This was certainly not good.

Meanwhile, Deckard still moved on with cautious steps, his gun in hand. He hardly paid attention to his surroundings, even when a blinking lamp-post cast its weak light at continuous intervals, resembling Morse code; He just remained focused and fully alert. Finally, he stopped on his tracks and signalled to the others to do the same thing.

Jack stood next to Deckard, his eyes looking in every direction.

"Did we find her?" the former Time-agent's voice was soft as he practically mouthed the words.

"Yeah, we found her," Deckard replied in the same tone. "And I can tell you she isn't happy to see us."

"Feeling's mutual," Jack said. He looked at Deckard from the corner of his eyes. "Do you have her?"

"Almost. She's pacing." Indeed, all four of them could see the crystallised breath and the way it appeared in a different position each time. "But if she keeps at it a little while longer, I think…"

Deckard never managed to finish his sentence. As if she understood what the agent was up to, the creature let out a terrible snarl. The sound of claws scratching the ground warned everyone that she was about to lunge at them, yet none of them moved. Jack and Gwen fired their weapons in the air, hoping to scare her, while Deckard remained on the same spot, unmoving.

"Cor, get out of the way!" Jack cried.

Deckard didn't. He stayed perfectly still, with steeling eyes and clenched jaw. Cursing, Jack grabbed the agent before the creature would sink her teeth in him. Such was the former Time-agent's force that both men ended up on the ground.

"What are you doing?!" Deckard cried.

"Saving you again!" Jack answered back.

"I had everything under--!" Deckard never managed to finish his sentence, for it was in that moment that he cried out in pain. Blood flowed out of his leg, a sign that the creature had closed her jaws around it. Thankfully, Andy reacted at once and used his club to place a well-weighed hit on her head. Snarling in pain, she let go of the leg in order to attack the insolent constable who dared hit her, but it was too late for her. One shot from Deckard's tranquiliser and she was out like a candle; everyone heard the soft thudding sound as she hit the ground, landing at Andy's feet.

None of the four humans moved for quite some time. They remained in place, their weapons on the ready like some kind of strange statues, expecting the creature to get back on her feet and attack again. In the end, it was Deckard who relaxed first, letting out a great sigh of relief.

"Mission accomplished?" Jack asked, wishing to confirm things.

"Mission accomplished," Deckard replied with a nod. He attempted to stand up, but he hissed as soon as he moved his injured leg.

"Hold still," Jack said, putting a hand on Deckard's shoulder, "At least until Gwen fetches some painkillers and bandages from the SUV."

"Right," Gwen said, deciding to comply with Jack's subtle command.

"Are there any ropes in the SUV?" Andy asked, poking at the creature with his club.

"In the trunk, I'll show you," Gwen said, dragging Andy away. After all, the SUV wasn't too far away, and they would be back in a jiffy. There was no chance that the creature would wake up in the meantime.

"It's a pity I don't have your healing abilities, Sir," Deckard said, wincing. "I could have used them right about now."

"You'll live," Jack replied with a smile.

"It still hurts like hell," Deckard pointed out.

"You have had worse."

"That doesn't mean I have to enjoy it," the younger man answered, a wry expression on his features. "Mark my words, when I get back, I'm going to ask for a raise."

"Don't you mean a vacation?" Jack asked with a wink.

Deckard snorted in laughter. "You really haven't changed, have you, Sir?"

Jack just smiled and decided not to answer that. He wouldn't have the chance anyway, for it was then that Gwen and Andy returned. They all set down to work and, under Deckard's instructions, the creature's invisible legs and muzzle were bound, rendering her officially harmless. Once the painkillers started taking effect as well, Deckard was able to get back on his feet and even help Jack and Andy carry the creature back to the SUV. Or at least try.

"You'd better lean on me," Gwen suggested, already offering her hand and shoulders for support.

"I'm alright," Deckard said, even though it was obvious that he moved with difficulty. He was limping quite badly.

"Now that's going to be interesting," Andy noted. "How will you take her back to your world when you can barely walk?"

"I'll help him," Jack said at once. "I know a thing or two about time-travelling, after all," he added, winking in Deckard's direction.

"Should I come with you?" Gwen asked.

"No, because _you_ will have to take care of another matter," Jack said. "Or do you have any objections this time around, too?" He looked hard at the woman, daring her to say that she wasn't going to Retcon yet _another _civilian.

"I'm sorry, what kind of matter are you talking about?" Andy asked, regarding both Torchwood members curiously.

Oh, whoops…

"Um…" Gwen started, embarrassedly, "The thing is, Andy, there's something I haven't told you."

"What's that?" Andy asked, more than just a little puzzled now.

Gwen opened her mouth to tell him that they ought to get a drink; but Deckard was faster.

"You actually helped three agents in protecting Cardiff, PC Davidson. Not many people can claim that." The CIA agent smiled, limping a couple of steps to stretch his hand in Andy's direction. "You are a hero."

Andy beamed at that and he completed the handshake. "You're welcome."

"Pity that you won't remember it," Deckard said with a sigh.

Andy's eyes widened at this, but it was too late. Wincing all of a sudden, he pulled his hand away and he stared at the back of his hand in disbelief. He tried to say something, only for his eyes to roll in their sockets and, in the next moment, he sagged unconscious against Deckard.

Deckard clenched his jaw, trying to keep Andy upright. "A little help, please?" he said. "I've got a leg here that doesn't really like the extra weight."

"What on earth did you do to him?" Gwen asked, putting her arms around Andy.

"Saving you some time," Deckard answered, pushing up his sleeve.

"Now there's a little beauty I haven't seen before," Jack commented. Indeed, the strap on Deckard's wrist was unusual, containing a small spring which, once activated, released a small needle that jabbed any unsuspected person who shook hands with Deckard.

"Faster than a Retcon pill and no one sees it coming," Deckard said, resetting the spring in place. "Doesn't have any of its ill-effects either."

"But what happens when he wakes up?" Gwen asked.

"Nothing," Deckard said with a shrug. "He'll just be all freshened up after a good night's sleep, aware that he had some odd dream but unable to quite place what it was."

Gwen supposed it was better than feeling like her head was bashed in with a sledgehammer. Still…

"I suppose that means we have to make sure that he wakes up in his own bed," she pointed out.

"And that's exactly what we're going to do," Jack replied, already entering the SUV and sitting on the driver's seat.

TBC…


	8. Step Four

Though Jack and Gwen weren't as good at cleaning up Torchwood traces as Ianto, they did a thorough job. They cleaned Andy's club of the creature's blood, they made sure that his uniform wasn't all that dishevelled, and Gwen even had the idea to retrieve Andy's car so that she could take him back to his house. After all, it would be quite strange if Andy was at home and yet his car was left in the middle of nowhere. And, as she pointed out, there was also the matter of entering Andy's house without any signs of breaking in. Thankfully, Jack had the solution. The alien lockpicking device would serve its purpose again and, more importantly, it was already inside the glove compartment of the SUV. There was nothing Gwen had to worry about.

"And after I take Andy home?" Gwen asked, regarding Jack uncertainly as they both carried the unconscious man to his car. "I can't exactly stay there."

"Go back to the Hub," Jack instructed. "I think we've left Tosh on her own long enough."

"Will you meet us there?" the woman asked.

"As soon as my work here is done," Jack promised.

Gwen nodded her understanding, and she opened the car door so as to settle Andy on the co-driver's seat. Moments later, Andy was buckled up and Gwen was ready to go. Still, there was something else she needed to say.

"It was a beautiful thing that you did for Agent Deckard."

Jack shrugged, playing down the matter. "The kid clung to me like a leech. I had to get rid of him somehow."

"It was still beautiful," Gwen insisted, and she placed a small peck on his cheek. "You should have children of your own one day."

Jack blinked, staring at her dubiously, but Gwen simply opened the door and sat on the driver's seat, starting the engine. All he could do was watch her driving away. Once the car was out of sight, he ran his hand through his hair and then walked back to the SUV, trying to keep his expression nonchalant. He didn't say anything as he settled on the driver's seat, though. He simply gazed ahead, lost in thought.

"Everything alright?" Deckard asked, regarding the former Time-agent curiously.

Jack pondered on the question, and finally nodded. "Let's get out of here," he declared.

"Okay," Deckard agreed, buckling up. "Where are we going?"

"A couple of miles outside of Cardiff," Jack answered as he backed out. "I know a small clearing there where you can activate your Rift manipulator without being noticed."

"Sounds like a good idea," Deckard said in a musing tone. "No need to add to the strange incidents."

"Yeah," Jack replied.

For the next few minutes, the only thing that could be heard was the engine of the SUV.

"Is it far from that clearing?" Deckard asked, practically out of the blue.

"Ten minutes or so," Jack said, frowning. "Why?"

"I believe you promised me a story, sir."

Realisation caught up with the immortal man. "Oh yeah. I did, didn't I?" he said with a chuckle. "Well, it all started when I met the Doctor…"

Deckard listened on, eager to know everything. By the time they had arrived at the first patches of trees, Jack had told the younger man the whole truth.

"Haven't you ever thought of leaving Torchwood?" Deckard said once Jack was done. "By the sound of things, you were treated as a… thing."

The slightly indignant tone made Jack smile inwardly. The former Time-agent always carried the air of the untouchable hero about him, someone who was completely unfazed and without weaknesses. And yet now this young man was willing to defend him and offer his support. Just like…

"Cor… Can you get wired with St. Helen's Hospital?"

Deckard frowned momentarily, not sure what to make of the sudden question at first. That is, until he made the connection and nodded. His eyes made the by now familiar rapid movement for a few moments and then he returned his focus to Jack.

"According to a Dr. Simmons' report, they have placed Mr. Jones in a coma in the hopes of treating his head injury. So far it looks like he's going to make it."

Jack allowed a small sigh to flow out of his lips. "Good."

Deckard raised his eyebrow a bit, intrigued. "I think I got my answer. Why you haven't walked away, I mean."

"Torchwood has changed a lot. I'm not just a thing now, but the leader of a team as we all work to protect humanity," Jack said.

"Sounds like a good job," the agent said with a smile.

"It is," Jack answered, mirroring Deckard's smile to a tee before pulling over. He didn't step out of the car at once, though; another thought had just crossed his mind.

"If you like, you can stay for a while. Just to see how things are done around here."

"A very tempting thought," Deckard replied in a musing tone. "But I don't think my superiors will appreciate me sending the lady unescorted to the lab. And, besides," at that, a small blush coloured the agent's cheeks, "I have someone waiting for me back home."

"Ah." Jack's lips tugged to a knowing grin. "She must be very special."

"He is."

Jack blinked, only to chuckle in the next moment. "Now that's something I haven't heard in a while from another guy's mouth."

Deckard's brief frown changed to understanding. "Right. It's still the 21st century. Although…" the agent regarded Jack closely. "I get the feeling that hardly stops you, sir."

"What can I say? Labels and I never got along," Jack said with a mischievous smirk and he stepped out of the car. Deckard followed his example and both men opened the trunk of the SUV to lift the creature. Since Deckard's leg was far from healed, it wasn't easy to carry her all the way up to the clearing Jack had mentioned, but they had managed it. Deckard still couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief as soon as they placed the creature down.

"You okay?" Jack asked in mild concern.

"I am now," Deckard replied honestly. He straightened his back and looked around. "You sure know how to pick your spots, sir. There's hardly anything stirring."

"Well, I do know Cardiff like the back of my hand," Jack replied with a smirk. In the next moment, however, he placed his hands in his pockets, kicking an invisible stone. "I suppose this is it."

"Yeah," Deckard replied, his tone unusually soft.

_I'll miss you too,_ Jack thought. It was strange how a person who you barely knew for about a day in total could leave a mark so deep you never forgot them, even changing the way you viewed the world. Deckard got himself a role model, making him wish to make a difference in the world; while Jack's ruthless cynicism ebbed away to be replaced by the first seeds of kindness; seeds that the Doctor's presence had watered so that they blossomed and thrived.

As if the same thought of gratitude crossed their minds, the two men wrapped their arms around the other in a strong embrace – a final goodbye.

"Thank you, sir," Deckard murmured and, for a moment, Jack thought that they were back in time and Deckard was six years old all over again. "For everything."

"Stay safe, Cor," Jack whispered, placing a kiss on Deckard's temple.

"I will."

When they drew back, their eyes glistened with tears that they refused to shed. Jack cupped Deckard's face tenderly for many long moments but, in the end, the younger man stepped back, pressing the coordinates that would take him and the creature back to the future.

"One… two… three…"

Jack watched on, recalling the same memory. Before Cor could say the word five, however, light surrounded him and, in the next moment, Jack found himself on his own. A gentle wind rustled through the leaves of the small forest, as if neither Cor nor the creature were ever there. The former Time-agent sighed, a bittersweet feeling settling on his heart, and he slowly walked back to the SUV. It was time to go back home.

As he started the engine, he smiled a bit as the grey cloak of pre-dawn signified the beginning of a new day.

* * *

"So… Agent Deckard was from Jack's past?"

"Yup."

"And he _wasn't_ Jack's lover?"

Jack listened to the women talking as the platform lowered him in the centre of the Hub, and he shook his head. Of course Gwen would fill Tosh in on anything that had to do with him and Cor.

"Was Owen's description accurate?" Tosh asked, sounding quite eager to know.

Jack didn't hear Gwen's answer, but he certainly heard the giggling.

"Pity he didn't come with you. I would have liked to meet him."

"Well, Jack seemed to have other ideas," Gwen said.

Jack was sure that he detected something suspicious in her voice.

Tosh must have detected it, too, if her next question was any indication.

"Wait… do you really think that Jack…?"

Jack decided that that had gone far enough. He stepped away from the platform and cleared his throat in a loud manner.

Tosh and Gwen turned around on their chairs, a blush creeping up their features.

"Jack… um…" Gwen pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "Has Cor gone back home?"

"Yeah," Jack answered, and he clapped his hands once. "Which means you two can give yourselves a pat on the back and have a few hours of well-earned rest."

"Jack, we usually start work at about this time," Tosh pointed out, half-teasing, half-serious.

"Not today," Jack said, smiling. "Now go on, shoo," he added, waving his hand in quite the theatrical manner.

"Aren't you leaving?" Gwen asked, regarding Jack curiously as she reached for her jacket.

"Nope," Jack replied. "I've got some things to do here."

"Are you sure?" Tosh asked, her frown quite evident.

Jack nodded. "See you tomorrow."

Gwen opened her mouth to speak, but Tosh placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Come on. You want to go to Rhys, don't you?"

That was all the prodding Gwen needed. In a few moments, the alarms going off told Jack the two women had departed, leaving him alone in the Hub. But it was only then, when the alarms died down, that the former Time-agent realised just how empty the place seemed. There was no sound of Tosh's typing or Owen's muttering; or Gwen's laughter as she told a joke… or the familiar footsteps of Ianto walking about with a tray in his hands.

Jack's thoughts guided him to Ianto's workstation, his fingers caressing the back of Ianto's chair in an absentminded manner. Was it only just a day ago that the young man sat there, regarding Jack with his captivating blue eyes and a soft expression on his face? That Jack stood across from his lover and listened to those beautiful Welsh vowels uttering words that Jack had never believed he'd hear from Ianto's lips?

* * *

_It was eight o'clock sharp when Jack woke up and dressed, ready to start work. Nevertheless, when he climbed out of his bunker, he was surprised to see that Ianto was already there, hunched over his desk as he sorted out files that needed archiving, while the smell of coffee being prepared filled the room. Jack grinned broadly._

"_Someone was an early bird," he teased._

"_I had to finish working on these," Ianto said, holding up a file momentarily to prove his point._

_Jack took in the serious tone his lover used and the way he didn't look up at him. "They must be quite the important files."_

"_I just wanted them out of the way."_

_Jack let out a quiet sigh. Though he had tried to dismiss matters as his imagination or a phase Ianto went through, he now had to admit that there was something very wrong with the young man. In the past week, Ianto's dry comments had dropped to a minimum and he was constantly lost in thought – whenever he wasn't occupied with his usual duties, that is. Worse, Ianto had been using any kind of excuse to not spend the night with Jack, whether it was too much work or a visiting friend, or the plain old classic, 'I'm tired.' Jack didn't know what could be so bad that Ianto couldn't confide in him in the first place, but one thing was for sure: he wasn't going to ignore Ianto again. One Cyberwoman incident was enough._

"_You can talk to me, you know."_

_Ianto froze for a moment, but then he resumed with his work. "I know," he said softly._

"_So what's the problem?" Jack asked, keeping his hands on his pockets as he approached Ianto._

"_Finding the courage to speak."_

_Now that had Jack frowning. "Ianto, I hope you realise you aren't making much sense now."_

_There was another moment of silence. "Then I suppose I should rectify that." He turned around on his chair and faced Jack with eyes that reflected both his love and his sadness. "Jack… I never kidded myself that there weren't others before me or that there won't be others after_ _me. But this is here and now, and I need to be sure where I stand in your eyes. You can't just treat me like I am_ _something special in your life in one moment only to brush me away as completely meaningless in the next." He bowed his head, his voice thick with emotion as he spoke the next words. "I want us to separate."_

_Jack stared at Ianto incredulously. "Are you saying you're breaking up with me?"_

"_Not yet," Ianto replied, looking back at Jack as his confidence grew once more. "I'm giving you a chance to decide what you want in your life, because you obviously don't know."_

_That stung and Jack wanted to retort so badly he could almost taste it. In the end, though, he just pursed his lips and nodded._

"_Fine. Is two weeks enough of a time-out?" he asked sarcastically._

_Ianto shrugged, hardly fazed. "You're the boss."_

It sure doesn't feel that way right now, _Jack thought bitterly. "Two weeks it is, then."_

_With that, he turned on his heel and he headed towards his office. He knew there was some paperwork on which he could vent off his anger._

"_Jack?"_

What now?_ the former Time-agent wondered, nevertheless he stopped on his tracks and turned around._

"_If you do come back, don't do it out of guilt or pity. And certainly not because nobody else is available. Come back for me."_

_Jack just shook his head and hurried to his office._

Jack heaved a sigh, letting go of Ianto's chair. Just then, a familiar screech filled the Hub, and the former Time-agent looked up to see Myfanwy was indeed above him, circling in the air as if looking for something, or rather, some_one_.

"He's not here, girl," Jack said… and as the words finally hit home, he felt a painful lump forming in his throat.

The pterodactyl still flew around, however, keeping a lookout for her usual provider. She wanted food and she wanted it now. The young one was always punctual with her feeding, after all.

"Okay, okay," Jack said softly in resignation, and he reached for the barbecue sauce. "Just don't blame me if you get indigestion."

Myfanwy simply screeched happily.

**To Be Concluded…**


	9. The Reason

The first thing that Owen registered as he slowly woke up once more was the constant beeping of the ITU equipment. He stirred, only to wince soon afterwards when he realised that sleeping on a chair was not one of his better ideas. Rubbing his neck in the hopes of getting rid of his stiffness, he directed his gaze to Ianto. The young man wasn't conscious, but Owen had expected that. The medic was just glad to see that there was no longer a tube going down Ianto's throat, since Dr. Simmons had decided that the injured man could breathe on his own. Even better, she had also ordered the reduction of the barbiturates that kept Ianto in a comatose state, which meant that he was well on his way to recovery.

"About time," Owen said. "You owe me some bloody good coffee."

Ianto couldn't hear him yet, of course. Though he was slowly coming out of the coma, it would be a while before the drugs would finally leave Ianto's system and he would wake up. Still, Owen felt he should say it. It was too bad that Ianto couldn't retort with one of his usual jabs, but it didn't matter; Owen could wait till Ianto was a little bit stronger for that. Now, the medic really ought to have a shower, as well as get rid of that stubble on his face. He didn't want to leave Ianto alone, though…

He didn't have to. Just as a very bright sun bathed the room with its rays, signifying the start of a beautiful day, Gwen came and offered to stay with Ianto for a while. Owen accepted, and so he found the chance to go home.

The shower was relaxing, admittedly, so he decided to rest his eyes on the couch for ten minutes or so, even if he was still dripping water. But he was quite shocked when those ten minutes turned out to be a lot longer because, when Owen opened his eyes again, he saw the sun was setting, bathing everything in rich red colour. He had apparently been more tired that he had thought at first, although that was neither here nor there anymore. Owen was sure that Gwen went home after so many hours, which meant Ianto was most probably alone in the hospital. It was high time Owen went back.

Ianto, however, wasn't alone. Tosh was sitting next to him, reading something in a soothingly soft voice. Owen wasn't sure which book she was holding, but it was nice listening to it. That was why he stopped on the threshold, refusing to go further in just in case he disturbed her. That is, until she stopped and turned around with a small smile, as if she had somehow felt his presence.

"Saki," she said, holding up the book. "It was on his desk, so I figured he would like to catch up with his reading."

Owen nodded his understanding. He hadn't really heard of the author, but he wasn't going to question matters either. "Have you been here long?"

"A couple of hours, give or take," Tosh replied. "I came here as soon as I woke up."

"And Gwen?"

"Rhys came by and picked her up," Tosh said. "A good thing, too. She could barely keep her eyes open."

Owen wasn't surprised; he doubted Gwen had slept. After all, she always took it pretty hard whenever someone was hurt… although Owen was never sure if it was out of empathy or guilt.

Just then, the medic also noticed something else.

"Jack didn't come at all?"

Tosh shook her head, and Owen was certain that he detected a look of sadness in her expressive brown eyes.

"Right," he said with a sigh. "Well, I'm here now. You can go home if you like."

"I'm okay," the Japanese woman said, taking off her reading glasses and placing them in her purse. "I simply wanted to keep him some company. I didn't think you'd come back today."

"Yeah, well… Doctor's instinct," Owen replied with a shrug. "Always caring about patients, no matter who they are."

Tosh smiled knowingly. "And you simply have to answer that call."

"That's me. Dr. Owen Harper, medic extraordinaire."

Tosh's expression softened at that and she opened her mouth to speak, but it was then that the door opened and Jack Harkness entered. Curiously, it wasn't the kind of dramatic entrance that the former Time-agent seemed so fond off, adding to the proud air of the dashing hero. He stepped inside in an almost hesitant manner instead, carrying a small rucksack on his shoulder. When Tosh and Owen blinked at him, however, Jack straightened his back at once.

"Came here to give your 'Get well soon' cards?" he asked, tugging his lips into a broad grin.

"Something like that. I don't see you holding one, though," Owen said, raising an eyebrow.

"Because I got him something better," Jack declared, digging in the rucksack and getting out a CD. Owen took it and looked at the name of the band.

"McFly…" he said aloud, and then he shrugged. "I guess that's one reason to live."

Tosh nudged him discreetly, but Jack took the jibe in stride.

"Four guys singing _and _looking good while at it? Of course it is," he said and he put the CD back on the rucksack, still grinning.

Silence followed for a few minutes as everybody turned in the direction of Ianto. They half expected him to join in the banter but, of course, that wasn't the case. Owen even felt his heart sink when he noticed that Jack wasn't smiling anymore. A part of the medic wanted to say something, yet he couldn't think of anything that didn't make him sound too emotional or too corny. Thankfully, Tosh got him out of the awkward situation.

"Well, I don't know about you, Owen, but I'm famished. What do you say we go grab a bite?" she said in a happy tone.

"Yeah, sure," Owen said at once, and he grabbed his jacket. But, as he followed Tosh outside, he noticed Dr. Simmons walking down the corridor. Acting at once, he tapped Tosh on the shoulder.

"Hang on a minute, Tosh… There's something I have to do."

Before Tosh could say anything, Owen had walked up to the other woman, putting on his charming smile and asking her if she would like to go out for a drink the following night.

* * *

Jack watched his two subordinates getting out of the room and closing the door behind them, only to shake his head the next moment. Those two didn't even try to make a discreet exit.

However, it wasn't important. The really important thing was that Jack could finally spend a few hours with Ianto in private. Though it wasn't exactly the kind of night he had wanted to have, it was still better than nothing. It gave him the chance to actually talk to Ianto. And he was surprised to realise that there were a lot of things he wanted to say. He simply wasn't sure from where to begin.

On the other hand, he couldn't just keep staring at Ianto…

"I… went to your apartment and got you some fresh clothes," he finally said, holding up the rucksack. "You'll probably moan that I've put them in all wrong, but hey! It's the thought that counts, right?"

Ianto didn't reply. Sighing, Jack left the rucksack on the floor and sat on the chair. He caught himself wringing his hands in an embarrassed manner, and he actually berated himself. It was a good thing Ianto was unconscious or Jack would probably never hear the end of it.

"You don't have to worry about Myfanwy and Janet. They were making so much noise that I had to feed them. I'm not sure I got the quantities right, but they looked happy anyway. Who knows, I probably fed them so much they won't be able to move for a week."

There was again silence; silence so heavy that it was almost unbearable.

"I even took the liberty of archiving those files you've been working on. You did say you wanted them out of the way." He shrugged almost absentmindedly. "No need for more work piling up. Or for more empty boxes from Ling Yao's, for that matter," he added softly.

Ianto simply breathed on, and Jack watched the steady rising and falling of Ianto's chest – the only visible sign of life.

"By the way, I came across an old friend, too. Someone who doesn't make me feel ashamed of my past. Of course, he was quite different from the last time I met him. Grey eyes suit him." His lips tugged into an unabashed grin before his expression softened. He never realised when he started stroking Ianto's hair, fingers running smoothly through it. "He actually reminded me of you. Brave, kind… Resourceful." He bowed his head, allowing himself to be vulnerable just this once. "Maybe I'll tell you the story when you wake up."

He couldn't say anything else. The lump in his throat had come back with full force, all but choking the former Time-agent. So, he just stayed on the chair, still stroking Ianto's hair in thought, and waited. It was the only thing left for him to do.

* * *

Ever since he became immortal, Jack hadn't had much need of sleep. Even so, there were times that his body simply demanded the rest, whenever he exerted himself either physically or emotionally. That was why he was only mildly surprised when he realised he actually opened his eyes at the sound of a weak groan. Jack sat up at once and looked on with bated breath at the sight of Ianto stirring.

"Ianto?" he said softly, taking the young man's hand in his. "Can you hear me?"

Ianto didn't speak at once. He opened his eyes, still glazed and slightly unfocused because of the drugs, and he regarded Jack in a perplexed manner. Finally, a flash of recognition crossed his features and he let out a soft sigh.

"Jack…" The voice was feeble, no more than a hoarse whisper.

"That's me," Jack said, smiling a bit. "How are you feeling?"

"Dizzy," Ianto replied candidly, and his gaze wandered in all directions as he took in his surroundings. "Hospital?" he asked.

"Yeah," Jack answered. "You had us worried for a while."

Ianto's eyebrows creased to a weak frown. "I don't remember what happened." He closed his eyes, obviously trying to recall those illusive memories. "I… was in a building… wasn't I?"

"You were," Jack said. "Then you took a dive from the third floor and landed on a parked car."

Ianto winced. "That… must have hurt."

"Trust me, it always does," Jack answered wryly.

Ianto chuckled, or rather made a noise that resembled a chuckle. But that kind of mirth died down at once as Ianto's gaze became thoughtful, almost pondering.

"Jack… It wasn't your fault."

Jack smiled again, more broadly this time. "I know." _It's not guilt, Ianto._

Ianto's frown deepened. "Am I dying?"

"I should hope not," Jack replied with a chuckle. _It's not pity, either._

"Then… why are you here?" Ianto seemed positively confused.

Jack looked at the younger man with warmth in his heart, and he stroked the pale face with the back of his fingers in a tender manner.

"I think you know why, Ianto Jones."

Ianto blinked once, taken aback at the answer. In the end, a beautiful smile brightened his features and he closed his eyes, leaning to Jack's touch. It wasn't long after that that the injured man slipped into a healing sleep, light snoring flowing out of his lips; while Jack remained where he was and watched Ianto sleeping with a smile. He knew now, beyond any doubt, that everything would work out alright.

**THE END**

_A/n: Well, that's it. I hope you enjoyed reading the story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Special thanks go to Gemini Willow and Junodog, as well as the people who took the time to review - your encouragement kept me going. :)_


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